Guardian Angel
by ThePushThatComesToShove
Summary: AU, WAFF. Taub/Kutner, implied House/Wilson. Spoilers for season 5. Still trying to get over the death of his close friend and colleague, Taub is out drinking when he hears a voice that is much to familiar to be real.
1. Tumbling Downhill

**Guardian Angel  
**Chapter One - Tumbling Downhill

"Rachel, look, I'm sorry, but I told you that my boss--"

"Oh yes, blame it on your boss, again. I'm really starting to lose faith in you, Chris, I really am."

Taub stared incredulously at his wife, stared at the un-shed tears in her eyes, stared at the hands balled into fists at her sides. The picture of his angry spouse drained energy from him. He knew that she had called Wilson just to make sure that House really wasn't keeping them at the hospital.

With a sigh, Taub ran a hand over the remainder of his thinning hair, turning his eyes to the floor. "I guess that I'm on the couch tonight."

For a moment, he thought he was imagining it, he swore that he heard her growl under her breath before hollering, "Just get out of my sight!"

Without another word, Taub trudged out of the room, knowing better than to talk back, even if it were for the last word. He tugged at the tie wrapped around his neck, loosening it before throwing it to the floor.

He wasn't cheating on her. At least, not this time. _But maybe what I'm doing could be considered cheating... Cheating life and death, that is._

As he sat on the couch, he noticed a bottle of beer sitting on the coffee table in front of him. Upon sighting it, he lifted his eyebrows at the object that definitely hadn't been there before, seeing as he had just arrived from the hospital moments ago and his wife was an extreme neat freak. He reached out to grab it, huffing a sigh when realization dawned on him.

"Damn, you're really having fun with this, aren't you?" Taub whispered under his breath, adopting a tone much too quiet for his wife to hear, let alone anyone within arms' reach.

A chuckle rang in his ears, and as soon as he heard it, he knew that it was only for him, only his ears could hear this hollow sounding laugh that had plagued his thoughts for the past week.

"**Of course I am. Wouldn't you, if you were me**?"

"Well, I'm sure that having a bullet buried in your brain must be oodles of fun," Taub muttered, knowing in the back of his mind he must look like someone who belonged in the hospital he worked in, talking to nothing. _Surely if I told someone that I could hear him, they'd send me there straight away. Or maybe to a mental institute._

"**Well, if I knew that I would end up doing this, then do you think I would kave killed myself? I really don't know what I did to deserve this**."

Sinking into the leather of his living room couch, Taub replied, "Oh, well, that makes me feel better about having a spirit following me around, making me talk to myself in public."

"**Hey, it's not like I'm the one making you talk back to me. You're doing that by yourself**." The voice paused for a moment, as if catching himself from his verbal lapse. "**Well, just think of me as your guardian angel, Chris. After all, I can see and hear things things that you can't**."

Taub scowled at that point, twisting the cap of the beer in his hands. It popped off as soon as he gave one flick of his wrist, startling him as it slipped loose in his grip. He lifted his eyes skyward and tightened the fingers wrapped around the neck of the bottle.

"**As much as you'd like to think I'm in some sort of otherly world, I'm actually sitting right beside you, so stop looking at the ceiling**," the voice stated just as Taub opened his mouth to speak. His scowl deepened as he gulped down some of the amber contents of the bottle.

"**Although I do admit this is really freaking cool, I don't know why I ended up with you, of all the people I knew**."

Setting the bottle back on the table, Taub rolled his eyes, pulling his shirt out of his pants as he replied, "Maybe it has something to do with you still being able to contact the living world. Have you tried talking to anyone else?"

The voice seemed to consider this, a low humming sound filling Taub's ears. "**Actually... When I saw you again, I started to panic. But if I got too far from you, something would tug me back to you. I can't resist it; like, if I put a certain distance between us, then I would just freeze and slowly float back to you**."

Taub downed the rest of his beer, slamming it back onto the table as he settled more comfortably on the couch. With his head on a cushion, he reached under the sofa and retrieved a gray blanket he stored there for nights like this. He stretched out his legs and heard the voice yelp into his ears.

"**Woah! You... Your legs go right through me**..." The exclamation was startling in his mind, but it softened as though the speaker realized that it was quite an obvious outcome of Taub's actions.

Tiredly, Taub glanced over at the general direction of his knees, nodding absently. "Yes. I'm sorry if it's such a shock to you that you're not solid, seeing as you died a week ago."

Yawning, he snuggled into the building warmth of the blanket as he was faced with silence. he figured that he would be let alone to sleep for the night, as he was sure that the other knew how much it was needed to deal with their-- his boss. He winced at the slip; ever since the voice appeared in his head, he'd dropped back to old habits and referred to him as if he were still living. The memories of their first meeting three days ago played through his mind, lulling him to a deep sleep.

* * *

_With a groan, I dropped my head onto the table, seeing a blurry reflection of my face in the dark wood of the bar. It surprised me to see how terrible I looked; dark bags under my eyes, wrinkles deeper than usual, the lack of hair screaming at my bloodshot eyes._

_I didn't know why I was still here. It had officially been one week since they found his body, and yet I didn't know better than to go home to Rachel, where I could drink in company. The comfort of my loving wife would have been warm. Maybe that's why I prefer to be here, comfortably numb in this cold state of mind._

_The dim lights of the bar winked at me from the fourth bottle of beer sitting in front of my head. The thumping beats of low music in the background reminded me of the fact that I would have to go to work again tomorrow, the sound resembling that of a cane hitting linoleum floors. I grimaced, sitting up to down the rest of the contents of my drink._

_Damn, this was pretty pathetic. I shouldn't be feeling this, this hollow loneliness that had settled in the pit of my stomach. The drinks never filled it. The consoling words of Thirteen, Cuddy, even Wilson never filled it. Not even the warm, slightly suffocating love of Rachel could fill it, and it aggravated me to no end. I shouldn't even be feeling it. It was only Kutner. We were never that close anyway._

_Were we?_

_The dark insides of the empty bottle seemed to tell that we really were. Otherwise, I wouldn't be spending so much money on the beer that used to fill it. Otherwise, I wouldn't be spending so much time trying to convince myself that he really didn't mean so much to me as to bring be to these lows. But as I glanced down at my watch, I remembered the time I had spent with him, the time that I had taken to be with him._

_I thought he was just a kid, when I first saw him sitting in the chair below me in that lecture hall two years ago. Feet propped up the the chair beside him, covered in shoes I only really saw on teenagers nowadays, collar open and loose around the base of his neck, revealing the shape of his clavicle, a pair of jeans topping off the casual attire. The urge to confirm that yes, he was here to compete against me and the other thirty-eight applicants sitting with us bubbled in my throat. _

_It dimmed after the weeks of working with him, almost disappearing every time he took hold of the defibrillators next to a crashing patient. It dimmed after we were both selected to work with House together, along with Thirteen and Foreman. It dimmed when he heard that his parents had been shot in front of him. It dimmed when he told me that he had set up an on-line clinic under House's name. It dimmed when he left me to apologize to someone he picked on in high school._

_Other things seemed to stir in me when he was around. Conversations about a friendship that I never really noticed before made me feel as if I really did mean something in someone's life, along with exchanged cups of coffee; watching him get screwed over by House over a cat made me question his capacity of intelligence, but when I saw his rebuttal, it only amused me further. _

_I knew what it was like to have friends, but never one like Kutner._

_I paid for the last beer I had, heaving myself off a bar stool. Heading over to the door, I opened it, feeling a rush of cool April air hit my body. A shiver ran through my spine, so I tugged my jacket closer to my body as I made my way down the street. The bar was pretty close to my house; not close enough to attract drunkards by the shining porch lights, but at least within reasonable walking distance. More the reason to stop by for a quick drink._

_I didn't want to go back home. I didn't want to face my wife, my life, reality. I didn't want to see that the world was getting over Kutner's death when I was not. I don't see why I'm still on his death when other people aren't. It annoys me. In the back of my mind, I have an odd feeling that I've said this before, but something seems different this time around._

_Stopping in my tracks, I take a look around, feeling the presence of another person. After scanning the area for a moment, I see nothing but the yellow lights of the streetlamps hanging above me, casting an eerie glow. As I look down, my shadow seems larger than usual. I don't recall gaining any excess weight..._

_"**Don't worry, Taub, you're not getting fat**."_

_Startled, I looked around again. Huffing, I realize that I already looked around, and that the voice was still ringing in my ears, as if the words had been whispered loudly into my ears. Panic was settling into my veins, my mind already buzzed from the alcohol, rational thoughts escaping me. I raised shaking hands to my ears, feeling my eyes widen uncomfortably._

_"Wh-Who's there?" I ask to nothing, turning on the spot as I search for the source of the voice. Could someone have slipped something into my ear when I was drinking? I dipped a finger into my ear and felt nothing. What the hell was happening? I hadn't had that many beers. I could still walk in a straight line, after all._

_"**Can't even recognize my voice? It's only been one week, man. Maybe it changed when I died**..."_

_My breath hitched in my throat when the voice registered in my mind. What the hell? Kutner was talking to me in my head? Was I going insane?_

_"What the hell... K-Kutner? Is that you?"_

_"**Of course it's me! What other dead man do you know that would talk to you**?" Kutner paused, and I could practically hear the smiling smugness in his voice as he added, "**I know what you were thinking earlier. It's great to hear that I matter to you so much that I plague your thoughts at night**."_

_I rolled my eyes, dropping my hands to my sides. "Well I'm sorry if the death of a colleague upset me." Inhaling deeply, I started to walk again, just in case someone saw me talking to myself in public. My hands were still shaking; I could hear them rattling against my pockets, my keys jangling in response to the vibration. "I just... I guess I must really need some sleep. I can't believe that I'm talking to myself just because my grief is starting to get to me."_

_"**Dude, listen to me. This is not just some mental thing weirding you out. This really is me! I know it must seem insane to you, but you have to hear me out, man**," he pleaded, his voice adopting a barely controlled stressed tone. The strangeness of it stood out to me; maybe being dead made him lose his control... "I**... Don't stop talking to me. Please...? This is freaking me out just as much as it's freaking you out, man.**"_

_The fear in his voice struck me. I swallowed an newly developed lump in my throat. I knew somewhere in the back of my mind that the alcohol in my system was making me somewhat irrational, listening to the pleads of the dead, but I couldn't find it in my heart to deny the frightened... spirit. Yes, that's what he was, a spirit. He hadn't come back to life or anything, just... tagging around me, I guess..._

_Shaking my head, I figured that it was too much stress on my alcohol ridden mind to try and figure out just what the hell was happening at this moment. Instead, I decided that I might as well humor him to keep that soft, pleading voice from revealing itself again. "If this isn't some stress and beer getting to me, then just what the hell is this, Kutner?"_

_"**Honestly, I don't know**..." he replied, voice disheartened to a soft murmur. "**But... I don't really know what happened. I know I shot myself. After that, it was just... black. When I could see things again, I don't even remember feeling anything. I saw my own funeral. I saw my parents, and Cuddy, Wilson, Foreman, Cameron, Chase, and Thirteen there. I... I didn't see you or House there**..." Kutner's hollow voice was getting quieter and quieter as he related his faint memories to me. "**I saw you crying at the hospital, though... That was when I felt a pulse of pain, but it was really weird... I had no body, just a desire to see what was happening to you guys at the hospital... Not my family, not my other friends**..."_

_I could sense that the revelation was just occurring to him, enthusiasm finding its way back into his voice._

_"**I saw you crying... And then it went black again... The next thing I knew, I saw you sulking again, at some bar or something. Not this one though. I think this was a few days after they buried me**," he continued. I grimaced; this was a recollection of my "private mourning", as Rachel liked to call it. "**That same pulse of life ran through me again, except this time it was longer. Then... it fades out to today. I found myself at the bar, sitting beside you. Except that... I wasn't. I wasn't really there, because I know that I was dead. I couldn't be there. But I saw you, and then the pain was there again, and I could hear everything that you were thinking about me. It was as if you shouting it aloud to me, that's how hard it shook me. You walked out, and I followed you, and now we're here.**" I heard him swallow, and the eerie emptiness of the sound elicited a shiver from my body. _

_"So you're saying that... I brought you back to earth?" I asked, thoroughly incredulous. A flush was burning my cheeks, but I wasn't so sure that it was just the alcohol anymore. "It was me that made you... feel again?"_

_He laughed, but it was somewhat dry. That lump returned, and I gulped it down, recognizing that kind of stoicness used to detach yourself from situations that really blew you away. _

_"**Yeah, I guess you did, Chris**," Kutner said, his voice light as if he were admitting a huge secret to himself. I suppose that he was. "**And I have a feeling you'll be stuck with me for a while**."_

_Somehow, that didn't seem as bad as he made it out to be._

* * *

A/N: Sorry, inspiration struck me when I saw Amber yesterday. This idea must be in the process of being written by thousands of writers, but hey, would you pass up a chance to write Kutner coming back to life after last week's episode? I admit the idea will be very, very cheesy when I finish, but hopefully I'll do it at least a little bit of justice...

Sorry for a bit of OOCness, Taub is drunk and Kutner is dead. Is there anymore to say?


	2. Scraped Knees

**Guardian Angel  
**Chapter Two - Scraped Knees

The next morning, Taub awoke to the smell of black coffee, the thick aroma wafting into his senses. His eyelids fluttered once, twice, before he opened them fully. As his body began to wake up, the feeling of sore, stiffness in his back reminded him of his current position on the couch.

_What the... coffee? And I'm on the couch? This isn't right, Rachel wouldn't do this if she's mad-- Wait_. He sat up abruptly when memories of last night came rushing through his mind. Immediately after the swift movement he regretted doing it, pain spiking through his back.

"Kutner," he whispered, brow furrowing into an angry scowl. "Are you... there?"

He laughed, and Taub was reminded how hollow his voice was now that he was dead. He felt an involuntary shiver run down his spine as Kutner said, "**Of course I'm here. Can't leave, remember? Brought you coffee. Thought you would need it after last night**."

Taub rubbed the remaining sleep out of his eyes before taking a better look at the coffee table in front of him. The bottle of beer was gone, replaced by a tray of a small breakfast. Toast and coffee sat on the tray, accompanied by jam, butter, cream, sugar, a knife, and a teaspoon.

"**I didn't know how you liked your coffee, so I brought all the stuff here in case you wanted to do it yourself**," he explained, and Taub could imagine him adopting a sheepish expression as he motioned toward the arrangement in front of him. _For all I know, he could actually be doing all of that. I just can't see it._

Taub leaned over and grabbed the coffee, chugging it down as it was. He ignored the slight burning sensation it caused as it ran down his throat. Setting it back down, he started on the toast. "I like my coffee black. ...Thank you, Kutner."

The bread crunched under his teeth, crumbs falling onto his shirt as he bit into it. Something in the back of his mind told him that Kutner was smiling at his gratefulness, and he was reminded that he really did miss his old coworker as his chest tightened at the image.

"**It was no problem**," he beamed. The tone of his voice confirmed the imaginary smile in Taub's mind. "**After all, I don't need to sleep myself, so I really had nothing to do**...."

_Oh right. I seem to have forgotten that this man is easily bored. ...Was_.

"**Actually, about that...**" The waver in his voice worried Taub. Being some sort of spirit must give you plenty of freedom. Physically speaking, of course. He could have gone through his stuff, could have seen things he wasn't meant to see. _After all, he's dead. Dead people aren't supposed to be seeing things anymore, and they're certainly not supposed to talking and defying the laws of... well, everything._

Kutner continued nervously, reluctance slowing his speech down. "**I... Saw that note you wrote. About me**."

Taub swallowed his food with a bit of difficulty, setting down the half-eaten slice bread on a plate. The fingers on his thigh dug painfully into his leg. "...And?"

"**I just wanted to say... Thanks, I guess. I never really thought that you returned my... interest**," Kutner replied, his struggle for words obvious in Taub's mind.

Kutner's halted breath in his ears told him that he wanted to say more, but he stayed silent, allowing Taub to finish breakfast in peace.

"...I'm still angry at you for not talking to me about it," Taub muttered, standing to bring the tray back. An invisible force pushed him back when he bent down to pick it up, signalling that Kutner wanted to take it back instead.

"**Now's not the time. Get ready for work, Chris**."

The statement-- no, the command was enough to silence Taub. He blinked twice before getting up and heading into his bedroom to perform his usual morning rituals, ready to drown out Kutner's voice with the heavy stream of water from his shower.

* * *

_Can't let him be a distraction at work today_, Taub thought to himself as he walked into the conference room. He gave a nod of acknowledgement to his coworkers, _at least the living ones_, before taking a seat.

A silence settled in the room, though it wasn't as awkward as Taub would have expected this early in the morning. The feeling vacancy was still evident, even after a week, and Taub glanced over to Kutner's old seat beside him out of habit. It was out of place, sticking out as if it were avoiding the table in front of it. He realized that Kutner had seated himself there.

_I guess old habits do die hard_, Taub thought to himself with a crooked smile.

"**Geez, is House late today? I miss being in here, working on some sort of puzzle**..."

_No, you miss the experience of something new, whether it's the patient or House himself_. Taub bit his lip as these thoughts ran through his head; he had to remember that talking to yourself in public was frowned upon.

While he refused to be distracted by Kutner's idle voice, he decided to content himself in looking at the busy hallway of the hospital through the glass walls, cradling his head in his hand. He could see, and hear, a wooden cane making its way up the floor, accompanied by perfectly able legs that stood a little too close to the running shoes beside them. With every limp, every dip in his step, the other pair of legs seemed to follow without hesitation, withholding that small distance between them.

The sound of annoyed, clicking heels reared the comfortable duo as they made their entrance to the room, stopping a few feet into the doorway.

"Chin up, Taub. Still trying to find a way to keep your job?" House quipped, continuing his walk into the room. Wilson sent him a quick look of warning, a look of he just lost one of his best friends a week ago, give him a break. Blue eyes flickered to the stern oncologist as he added, "I'm sure we'll get another patient to give you another excuse to stay."

Taub grit his teeth, sitting upright with indignance. "I'm staying, whether or not you like it, House."

His boss opened his mouth to reply, leaning heavily on his cane as he towered over Taub, but Wilson muttered something into his ear and he deflated. The diagnostician lifted an eyebrow at his best friend and they exchanged smirks before Wilson left, shaking his head.

Cuddy had been standing in the doorway as well, tapping her foot impatiently. Wilson gave her a sheepish smile. She shook her head at him, leading him back down the hall.

"**Door's busy today**," Kutner observed as Cameron walked in next, handing House a folder for their new case.

Taub nodded absently, hearing that Cameron was repaying a referring doctor by giving House a new case. An environmentalist that collapsed during a protest... He grimaced, hoping that he wouldn't have to put up with the patient's righteous crap.

"**Nice to know that people out there are still standing up for what they believe in**."

Taub's frown dropped at the off-handed comment. He rolled his eyes instead, though part of him acknowledged the small truth in Kutner's statement. _Yeah, but to do so in such extremes... Is it really worth it in the end?_

"**Knowing that the world changed because you decided to do something about it must be nice**."

_Is it nice knowing that you changed_ all _of our lives because you decided to "do something about it"?_Taub thought to himself bitterly, casting his eyes to the floor.

"...**I don't like hearing them talk about me as if I weren't here**," Kutner muttered, his voice a defeated mumble. House had accused Cameron of taking Kutner's place. She had just left the room to do a test on the patient, to verify his balance problems.

_Maybe it's because you're dead, Kutner, whether or not it's in the form of some haunting ghost_...

Taub could feel House's gaze on him for a moment as Thirteen and Foreman left to grab coffee from the cafeteria. He glanced up briefly and saw that the icy blue eyes had switched from him to the chair beside him then back at him again. Taub lifted an eyebrow at him.

House shook his head and headed out the same direction his other fellows had gone, hoping to catch lunch with Wilson.

Even if dying changes everything, some things will never change.

* * *

Out of the corner of his eye, House saw Foreman and Thirteen leave the cafeteria with paper cups of coffee in their hands. He shook his head lightly and returned to the issue at hand, staring disgustedly at the plate of healthy food Wilson was heaving over to a table. He followed behind him obediently, ignoring the fact that Cameron was probably done with the test already. The diagnostician figured it could wait a moment; something was nagging him in the back of his mind.

Wilson sat down at a table, taking a forkful of egg and shoving it into his mouth. He regarded the older doctor with an expectant gaze, eyes flickering to the seat in front of him. House shook his head; he knew he had to leave soon. Just one thing he wanted to discuss...

"Something's off about Taub," House muttered, taking one more glance at the bacon-less, and therefore tasteless, omelet on Wilson's plate before looking back at his best friend's intrigued eyes. The oncologist dipped his chin, motioning for House to continue. "He keeps looking at Kutner's old chair."

Swallowing, Wilson replied, "So maybe he's still getting over Kutner's death. Big deal."

House shook his head again, leaning his weight onto his cane. "Taub would ignore the seat entirely if he were still trying to get over Kutner. No, I think that... It's something else. Kutner's chair was also sticking out, as if someone was sitting there..."

"People move chairs, House... Maybe Taub pulled out the wrong chair and forgot to put it back. I'm pretty sure that you're looking for nothing, here," Wilson replied, turning away to take another bite of his food. He titled his head and gave him another pointed look.

The crippled doctor frowned, the wrinkles around his mouth deepening. His brow relaxed as he tipped his head at Wilson in goodbye, giving a small shrug before limping towards the door.

First Kutner's death, now Wilson's eating habits and Taub's changed attitude. He couldn't be losing his skill, could he...?

* * *

Standing in the room next to the defibrillators gave Taub a chill, remembering Kutner's history with them.

"**I'm glad that_ you're_ the one to continue the legacy**," was all Kutner said, a laugh evident in his voice.

Impressing House wasn't worth going through this, even if it were a minor chore. Trying to find a tumor on this patient using this process was very risky, so he stood by as the patient's wife complained about their course of action.

The sight of a patient crashing was always a nerve-jumper, no matter how many times he'd seen it. The wife was quiet now, fussing over the limp body lying on the hospital gurney. Taub rushed forward with the defibrillators in hand.

As he applied the paddles to the patient's chest and felt a weight on his hands, a human presence at his back. His blood ran cold as he felt Kutner step up behind him and place his hands on top of his. The sensation was similar to that of hands made of ice and as light as air settling on top of his, and he sought to shake them off as soon as possible. He sharply withdrew the defibrillators and the cold left his skin, goosebumps left in their wake.

The patient's pulse came back to life and Taub replaced the defibrillators on the crash cart, chest heaving. He was alive; at least, alive enough to continue tests, surviving on a shred of life.

His hands never regained their warmth.

* * *

Taub had no time to reflect on the simple cause of the disease, _Roses, how touching_, as he rushed to gather his items, his nerves still on high after the incident with the defibrillators. He threw his coat on, glad to be leaving the hospital so he could confront the ghost haunting his soul.

_God, I told myself that I wouldn't get distracted at work today, yet here I am_, he berated himself, tugging his coat closer to his body. The imprints of Kutner's large hands on his own were frozen into his skin, _at least that's what it feels like_, the memory of it still fresh in his frenzied mind.

"**Look, I'm sorry about what I did back there**," Kutner replied, his words hurried as if he were trying to get it all out in one breath. He seemed to be running with Taub as he made his way out of the hospital. "**I... wasn't thinking. I just wanted to relive the experience, you know**?"

"Remind me that _you're still dead_, Kutner," Taub hissed in reply, his self-control fading, "'Cause I have the rising urge to kill you right now..."

In the background, Wilson opened the door of his office, sighting the shorter doctor striding down the hall, bristling like a cat. He was tempted to confront the ex-plastic surgeon after his exchange with House earlier, but Taub made it to the elevator before he could even catch up. The oncologist did manage to hear him hiss Kutner's name under his breath, muttering something about wanting to kill him.

_Maybe House was right_, Wilson thought to himself, putting his hands on his hips. He shook his head and headed down to the cafeteria, planning to meet House there for a celebratory meal. They could talk about it when they got there.

* * *

Taub slammed the door shut, pent up energy pulsing through his veins. He knew that Rachel wasn't home yet; she mentioned that she would be at her sister's house to get away from him, in case he wanted to apologise. _Like that was happening_.

He turned around to face nothing and felt slight disorientation, moving to yell at nothing. It only slowed him for a moment, as he shook his head in frustration and exclaimed, "Why the hell would you even think of doing that?"

"**I don't know! I just did, okay**?" Kutner yelled in response, his voice having more substance than usual, "**I just... You looked like... You know how attached I was to the title "professional defibrillist"...**"

Taub was shaking, though he wasn't sure if it was in anger or because of Kutner's statement. His hands clenched into fists, still white cold at his sides. "Stop making up excuses, Kutner. I don't care if you thought it was some sort of tie to the living world, you killed yourself, and there's no coming back! Okay? You did this to yourself, and there's nothing you or I can do about it!"

His slip left him speechless. _I... I wasn't supposed to say that. I was clearly going to say that he should just keep to himself, I didn't mean to..._

Kutner was also at a loss for words, his breath caught in his throat, the sound reverberating in Taub's ears. He swallowed thickly, and it was louder than any flatline in the hospital. "**Chris... I didn't know, I.**.."

"Of course you didn't know," Taub spat quietly, shaking his head. His fingers were trembling, his knees were weak; he just wanted to sit down. He trudged over to his sofa, shrugging out of his coat on the way over. "There was no way you could have ever known what you had done to us." _What you had done to me_.

Kutner didn't say a word, so Taub sought for words as he continued, inhaling deeply as he fought back anymore outbursts, "Look, I don't why you're still here, still on earth. Even though I never saw your body, I never saw the gun, the bullet, or the blood, it's still real, and it still hurts. You're an idiot... _I'm_ an idiot, for not noticing sooner. How could you do it? How could you kill yourself? Why?"

"**I don't know. It's... kinda hard to describe**," Kutner admitted, taking a breath as he struggled for the right words to explain, "**Why do you think people kill themselves? Depression, pressure, frustration**..."

"I know why _other_ people kill themselves. Which is why I don't understand why _you _killed yourself," Taub replied, his voice an angry, hoarse, whisper, "I never saw any of that in you. You were so... happy-go-lucky, with your excitement over every little thing... The only thing that I can think of that could lead you to... suicide would be the loss of your parents, and the alienation that followed it. But you... You still seemed so strong..."

Taub felt a touch of the same coolness that contacted him earlier, making him flinch away when he realized that Kutner had reached out to touch him.

"**It was... I was at the point of no return, Chris. I had to do it. I had to end it**." Kutner took a shaky breath, _why would he need to breathe anyway, he's dead_, his voice regaining that hollow tone again, "**I was strong because I needed to be. I needed to be happy, I needed that excitement, or else... Or else I would just lose it. I couldn't pretend anymore, Chris. I couldn't live that lie anymore. I never fit in, so I always tried to escape to a world where weirdoes like me did belong, with those sci-fi books and the video games... _I_ was those orphans, _I_ was those characters who were alone in their lives with some special talent. Except I never had the friends, I never was the hero who saved the day. I couldn't save my parents. Sure, I could save patients, but thinking about that makes it worse. Why couldn't I stop them from dying, Chris? Why couldn't I be a normal kid, like everyone else?"**

"I... don't know..." Taub choked in response, his head hung at his knees. He didn't know how Kutner had felt, all this time... Why didn't he think of it? The murder, the upbringing in the wrong place... It all made sense. "You... You had us. Me, Thirteen, Foreman, Cameron, Chase, Cuddy, Wilson, even House!"

"**You guys only accepted me because we worked together**," Kutner spat bitterly.

The comeback phased him out, but not for long, "So... So what? That didn't mean we liked you any less. You should have talked to us about it, Kutner."

"**The fact that we were never "real" friends is why I never talked about it! You seemed to have your own problems, what with Rachel and all that. Thirteen had her Huntington's to worry about, Foreman was never really approachable, and House... Man, don't even get me started on House. You wouldn't have understood. You don't even understand now!**"

"That may be true, but... Why are you here then? You seemed to be perfectly fine with killing yourself." Defeat made him snappy, frustration clear in his voice. He was too tired to try to make himself more amiable, despite the delicacy of their situation.

That question seemed to catch Kutner off guard. He paused to contemplate an answer and simply said, "**Now that's what I don't understand. I made the decision on my own to leave this world... Why was I sent back?**"

_Why were you sent back to _me_? _Taub replied in his head, letting out a shuddering sigh. Kutner seemed to accept his exhausted silence, and he felt a small dip in the couch beside him. He didn't give it another second thought, though, as he settled back into the leather of his couch.

There was only so much he could absorb in one sitting, after all.

* * *

A/N: Ahhhh, I can't believe that I tried giving Kutner a reason for killing himself... Oh, and of course I'd refer to the episode that aired already. There's no way I can write up my own case... I admit that I'm too lazy to think up something on my own. I might one day, though. When that day comes... I don't know.

Hope you enjoy this chapter. I... fail at writing House, and Taub, a little. But I think I might just be able to pull it off in the end... XD


	3. Nursing Fresh Wounds

**Guardian Angel  
**Chapter Three - Nursing Fresh Wounds

Wilson eyed House's hand as it reached over to grab a fry from his plate. It was good to have things back to normal, as normal as that was. He lifted brown eyes to look at the diagnostician's face, one that had been smirking a few moments ago. It was now wearing an expression as hard as stone, that look of deep contemplation. He was reminded of the incident that had occurred earlier, when Taub had passed by him in a frenzied rush.

"House... You know how you said that you thought Taub was... acting strange today?" the oncologist began, gauging House's face as his eyes brightened with interest. It was always a small victory for him, and he smiled inwardly. "On the way out of the hospital earlier, he was really... well, jumpy would be one way of putting it."

He paused, another test to see if House was listening. The man sitting across from him raised his eyebrows, a sign for him to continue.

"He was walking too quickly to be normal, and he was... Talking to himself. As if someone were with him. More importantly, it was like he was talking to Kutner."

House's mouth pressed into a firm line at that statement. Wilson wondered if he was concerned for his employee at all, but waved the thought away as House spoke up himself.

"This is interesting... I think that someone's been visiting someone in their dreams," House said, a half-smirk pulling at his lips. "Something new to use against tiny Taub at work tomorrow."

Wilson leaned back in his seat, pointing a fry accusingly at his best friend. "So... That's it? You think that he's just... dreaming?"

House shrugged, popping a piece of fried potato into his mouth in return. He chewed slowly, tilting his head at Wilson's deadpan stare. With an audible gulp, he swallowed and replied, "He hasn't been showing any signs of psychological break down, so I don't think he's going insane. Grief must be getting to his head.... Or yours."

The oncologist held up his hands in defense, turning his head to give House a sideways glance. "Oh no, don't you go accusing me of hearing things. Kutner's death was certainly unexpected, but I'm not going to hear things just because I want to."

House merely shrugged in reply, taking a swig of his drink next to the nearly-empty plate of fries placed almost evenly between them.

"What do you think would be a fun way to trick him into thinking that we see him, too?"

Wilson rolled his eyes, devouring the fry in his hand. He placed his forearms on the table between them, leaning forward to add to his point. "House. We are not going to trick Taub into doing anything!"

House squinted an eye at him, obviously annoyed at his refusal to aid him in his evil deeds. "Fine, _you're_ not tricking him into doing anything," the diagnostician replied, making sure to mock his tone of voice as he repeated his words. "Doesn't mean I can't."

Wilson's eyebrows drew together as he gave his best friend a look of disbelief. He held House's stare for a long moment before throwing up his hands, knowing that House would not relent simply because Wilson wanted him to. At least, not this time. The head of oncology dropped his chin in his hand as he watched House's eyes light up as he contemplated different ways to torture his underling, and in the back of his mind he was curious to see what he would do the next day.

After all, with House, there was no way to know what he would to to humiliate someone. He _did _smash Cuddy's toilet with a sledge hammer...

* * *

Taub stared absently at the television screen in front of him, tapping the remote with his thumb as he flipped through channels. About ten minutes had passed since the argument had come up, and Taub was resigned to watching mindless television as they cooled down.

"**Whoah, hey, could you go back**?" Kunter asked. Taub could feel the seat beside him shift as Kutner jumped up at the screen as if it would stop the tv from changing channels. He put it back, but not without giving the space beside him a suspicious look.

It was a Star Wars rerun. If his memory served right, then it would be the... second one, the Clone Wars, he thinks. Typical for Kutner to make him watch this crap, but he didn't feel like denying him. He was dead, so he might as well enjoy some of the earthen things while he was hanging around. At least, that seemed like the most reasonable excuse to allow him the luxury of... watching some sci-fi flick.

_Damn, I know that this haunting is making me do weird things, but I never thought I'd see the day when I would spend my time watching a Star Wars movie_.

The imprint on the couch moved so there was something pressing into the back of the sofa, along with a dent on the armrest. _Glad to see that you're making yourself comfortable, however that works when you're dead.  
_

A few moments passed, the sounds of clashing light sabers and ray guns emitting from the flashing screen in front of them filling the room. Surprisingly, the lack of words exchanged was rather comfortable; sitting in the other's presence, however questionable it may be, was relaxing.

It startled Taub a bit when Kutner spoke up, his voice that loud whisper in his ears again.

"**Hey, do you know what happened to my stuff**?" Kutner asked, his voice light compared to the angry, emotion ridden rasp it was only minutes ago. Taub figured that seeing this movie reminded him of his action figures and posters left in his apartment.

Taub had to stop himself from giving an inquiring look at the empty space beside him. "...Why do you think that I would know?"

"**It's not that I think that you would know in particular... It's that there's no one else to ask**," Kutner replied, his words slow coming out of his mouth as he defended himself.

Taub shrugged. "I don't know. I guess your parents have it." This time, he let himself turn his head to face the invisible apparition that was Kutner, lifting an eyebrow at him. "You're not thinking of... going to see them, right? Because I don't think they would be able to see you..."

The silence that greeted him told him that Kutner was seriously considering making him go.

"Oh come on, you can't be serious," Taub said, throwing up his hands. "I have no reason to go! I don't even know your parents that well, and they're probably mad at me for not going to the funeral."

"**....Please**?"

Taub groaned and buried his face in his hands. He could not believe he was letting himself be convinced into going to the house of his dead, _dead_, colleague's parents to ask if they still had all of his little toys and figures.

"**Can't I just see my parents one last time**?" Kutner's voice was soft and pleading, something similar to the voice he used when they met again outside of the bar. It grated on Taub's nerves, and all he wanted to do was stop him from using it again.

Taub scrubbed firmly at his face, sinking farther into the cushions below him. "Kutner, you can't just expect me to march up to your parent's house and tell them that their dead son wants to check on his old stuff. It doesn't work that way. You _killed yourself_, remember?"

The voice in his head was quiet for a moment, as if digesting this information for the first time. "You **know what... what if, maybe this whole haunting thing is like, gonna bring me back**?" The unspoken add on, _Wouldn't that be awesome_?, rang in his ears as if he'd actually said it.

"Wishing isn't going to make it happen. You did this to yourself."

Despite the cold response, Kutner continued with his whole idea. "**Like, maybe I was given a second chance if I can realise why I was sent back to earth**..."

"This is what you get for reading so many fantasy books. You can't just expect to be raised from the dead! It just doesn't work that way!" Admitting it to the both of them made Taub's chest tighten for unfathomable reasons. He opened his eyes against his fingers, admiring how his eyelashes hit his skin. "...Besides, you don't even have an idea why you're down here again."

"**Well, let's think about it for a second, okay**?" Kutner seemed happy that Taub decided to play along. "**I was brought back about a week after I died... I came back to haunt you after seeing you... I can only talk to... you**...."

Taub didn't like the pattern he was seeing.

"**Maybe it has something to do with... you**."

"You _think_?!" Taub exclaimed, his face flushing with frustration. Because of frustration at his stupidity and nothing else. "God... If your "theory" is correct, then you're supposed to have some sort of epiphany concerning... me."

"**Yeah, that seems about right**," Kutner replied, pleased. It seemed that he hadn't picked up the implications behind Taub's statement, which only annoyed him further.

_God, does he even pay attention to the trends in those movies? Does he know why people are usually brought back to life in movies?_ "You know what, I think that we should just say that you're a reminder to... not shoot myself in the head." _It's just easier that way._

"**No, if I'm right, then it has to be more than that**."

"You just want to be alive again!" Taub yelled, quickly losing grip of his temper. "And I don't see _why_. You just told me why you killed yourself, so I don't see how it makes sense for you to want to be alive again."

A thought passed through his mind, _are you hoping it would be different this time around?_, but he ignored it and decided that it was only Kutner's irrational excitement that was pushing this idea on him.

Kutner's breath caught in his ears again, and he knew he had stumped him again. Taub knew he should have been feeling smug about it, but Kutner's lack of a reply worried him instead. _What happened to your theory now? Aren't you going to tell me how it would be "cool" to come back to life? To turn my life upside-down again?!_

It was Taub's turn to be surprised when those words passed his mind. A frown tugged at his lips, and now he was dreading Kutner's response.

"**I... You...**" Taub didn't need an explanation telling him what Kutner was going to say. If logic served right, then his desire to be alive again would have to be that he had found a place where he belongs, and he feels so strongly for it that he wants to be there, alive and well, not some spirit. And since it involved Taub...

"**There's no way... I... You and me....? This is crazy...**" Kutner mumbled to himself, his voice fading into something distant. "**Maybe I am wrong**..."

"_Yes_," Taub urged, wanting to forget the whole conversation altogether. _It would definitely save me a night's worth of wondering how the hell _that_ happened_. "Let's just... drop this whole thing, okay?"

Kutner hummed in his ears and he knew that he didn't want to let go of the subject so quickly, not after bringing it into play for a second time that day. The ghost's stubbornness was aggravating, for he wished that Kutner would just let him gather his wits before saying - and thinking - something he regretted.

Taub leaned back against the soft leather behind him, laying his hands in his lap as he twisted his fingers together. He knew Kutner was going to say something to surprise him, make him react like he did before, _maybe it amuses him_, and the anticipation was making his palms sweat. Something in the back of his mind reprimanded him for being so honest with the ghost in his head, but he also knew that he could not bring himself to lie to him. _I wonder if he can see what he's doing to me, I wonder if he knows... _

"**Wow, this conversation has gone from me wanting to die and me wanting to come back to life**," Kutner mused, his voice emotionally detached. "**But you know what, enough about me. What about you? I'm sure this whole haunting thing must be getting on your nerves**."

The monotony of Kutner's voice stirred something in the back of Taub's mind, but he knew that the ghost was just curious. He released the breath he didn't know he was holding as he thought, Well, I know at least part of him is curious. He denied Kutner's claim as he explained, "To be honest with you," _but not entirely so, it seems_, "I'm actually... Glad that you ended up... following _me_. I... You saw the note..."

Taub was avoiding admitting his feelings out loud, but he could almost see the smile Kutner was giving him at his statement. His lack of a response was the signal for Taub to continue, "From the beginning, I was in disbelief that this could be happening. But I... felt it, literally, that you were actually down here. You're not alive, which would have been the best scenario considering... what... happened, but it's nice to have you back in some weird form."

"**Thanks, Taub**," Kutner said, happiness obvious in his tone, "**I'm glad I'm not some sort of nuisance**."

Taub rolled his eyes, but Kutner's imaginary smile was contagious. "When have you ever been a nuisance, Kutner?"

It was times like these when Taub wished he could see Kutner, for he knew that Kutner was smiling at him, eyes bright and cheery. And he wished because he missed the sight, being deprived of it for more than a week after imprinting the image into his mind, having seen it so many times. The familiarity of his best friend would have been comforting right now, knowing that his wife was angry at him and that he had to face his bastard of a boss the next day, but he had to settle with the relaxing silence that Kutner offered, satisfied with their final exchange for the day.

Another patient was cured, many thoughts were aired, and Taub missed the smiling face of his best friend. He still wished that a bullet hadn't taken away the life of the ghost chained to his ankle, but surprisingly, he was just fine with what they had now. He was being more honest than he had ever been in his life, and he didn't know why, but he didn't really care.

That night, Taub fell asleep to the sounds of clashing light sabres and a friendly laugh in his ears.

-------

Rachel opened the door slowly, light spilling into the hallway as she entered her home again. She stepped in carefully, her heels clicking softly against wooden floors. Dainty fingers closed the door behind her, a coat slipping off pale shoulders before being forgotten with curiosity when she sighted the flickering lights of the television in the living room.

She padded into the room, heels abandoned at the door. Her blonde head poked through the archway of the living room, and she smiled painfully at the sight of her husband sleeping on their couch again, despite her absence. Rachel continued her path into the room and picked up the remote off the coffee table beside her. She kneeled down to stroke Taub's cheek, that bittersweet smile still painted on her face.

"Chris... Chris, I'm sorry for not letting you explain earlier," she whispered, watching as he shifted in his sleep. "I'll talk to you in the morning. I love you."

Rachel kissed his forehead affectionately, walking away from the couch to head into their bedroom.

Kutner exhaled softly as he sat on the armrest adjacent to the one Taub's head was sitting on. He rested his ghostly head on his hand as he crouched, staring at the remote on the table. If only she hadn't come in, he would have been able to finish the last episode of the Star Wars series...

He shook his head, turning his attention to the slumbering doctor. _I almost forgot that he had a wife. What with the whole "I'm back here because of you" deal, I almost thought that he..._Kutner didn't want to finish that thought, so he stretched his legs and leaned over Taub, feeling as if he were imitating the tired wife that had stopped by moments ago.

_God, this is insane_, he thought to himself, exhausted. He felt tired, yet he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep. Despite the desire to just stop and sit down, he knew it was just an emotional drain to be back after killing himself. _It was enough to go through life and to make the decision to end it. I have no idea why I'm here again. It just... sucks. But I think that I'm supposed to look at it a different way this time around. If I don't... then it would just be pointless, and then it would be just like it was before. Since I was given a second chance, I guess I should use it._

The spirit laid himself out, floating in the air above Taub. He rested his head on his forearms, admiring the sleeping form below him. _But dammit, it's hard to go through this again._He watched as Taub's chest rose and fell, and the rhythm relaxed him a bit._ ...Seeing him like this makes me wonder what he went through as well. He didn't take my suicide that well. Funny thing that was, seeing him vulnerable for once. At least he was smart enough to cry when they weren't around._

That was another frustrating thing for Kutner. Taub was always so... detached. Passive. Some part of him thought he was envious, but he knew that wasn't the case. Sure, being as stoic as Taub was must have a lot of advantages, but... it seemed less human. He wasn't exactly sure how to put it, but he liked to think that feeling things, emotions like anger, happiness, sadness, and ultimately putting yourself out there was better than being safely hidden. The rush of emotion was always something that he loved to experience. He didn't care if he looked like an idiot at the end, it didn't matter whether or not he was right or wrong... Just as long as it happened, that was all that mattered.

Kutner always loved roller coasters. And since life was like one, he loved it as well.

But his life was bumpy from the get go. He had no time to prepare, no time to take in a breath before screaming his lungs out. No, there was no tense climb to the top of the tracks; all there was for him was falling, riding the car through loops and turns as the tracks, his life, passed by under him. Somewhere on the road he found a way to enjoy it, when he got used to it all. But because it all started so fast, no one had time to get in with him. He went through it all alone, no friends, no family, and that was the thought that brought the gun to his head. There was never anyone beside him, so he figured that no one would ever really care if he were to jump out off the tracks then and there.

Now that he was standing in the sidelines, he realized that the people in his life may not have been riding right beside him, but in the cars behind him, supporting him all the way. His adoptive parents were always trying to find their way to the front, but they couldn't jump over the doors without breaking them; every step they took was a careful one, and in the end, they just couldn't make it. His college friends were only there for a while; they got bored of him and went to a different ride. The fellows at the hospital... They were there for him, but not within his immediate reach, and he felt stupid for taking them for granted.

It was only then that he had seen them, crying for him, whether it was at his funeral or away from suspecting eyes, that he had realized their love for him. Knowing that he was the one causing them pain hurt him; ever since his parents died, he always tried his best to make the people close to him happy, to make up for the fact that he could never help his parents.

He always knew in the back of his mind that there was nothing he could do, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

Kutner sighed inwardly, propping his elbows up on the air. He glanced to the glowing numbers of the cable box under Taub's television and saw that it was three am. Bringing his gaze back to the man below him, he frowned and thought, _Damn, it's so... boring, being dead. Nothing to do but think... And it's times like these when thinking is the only thing I _don't_ want to do. I wish... I wish I could sleep... _

He was starting to hate being in the middle of life and death; there were so many limitations, yet at the same time, there weren't enough. He didn't need to sleep; he didn't need to eat; the laws of physics didn't apply to his form. But these freedoms forced him to be without influence to the world around him, and he was almost invisible again.

Taub is the only one he can reach, and yet... it's not as bad he thinks it should be.

With one last look at the doctor below him, Kutner returned to his perch on the armrest, crossing his legs as he settled his back against the couch beneath him. Sure, it was going to be another long night of doing nothing, but, as he listened to the deep breathing of the man beside him, he figured that he could wait for him.

Besides, was there anything else he could do?

* * *

A/N: These things keep getting longer... Why do I have the need to try and top myself every chapter?  
Ooh, finally, a perspective change. And... Rachel? Complication, people, sing it with me!

And now, with every chapter that I write, Kutner's shredded characterization slips a little farther through my fingers... DX


	4. Shaking Legs

**Guardian Angel  
**Chapter Four- Shaking Legs

Kutner watched as Rachel made breakfast, curious if she could see him. He didn't want to risk it, though; if he were to reveal himself, it would be at the hospital. 'Sides, if she did see me, she would probably start screaming, and then Taub would get mad at me... And to him, that was one of the worst things that could happen right now.

Walking on air was one of the coolest things Kutner was delighted to know that he could do. Along with floating and doing all sorts of tricks in the air. He could run through walls, wave his hands in front of people's faces, move things around, and yell at people without them noticing. Not that he had tried that last one; he had a feeling Taub would think he was insane if he tried that... But that thought was always floating in the back of his mind whenever he thought of the hospital. In fact, most of his experimenting had been at the hospital as they tried to save that environmentalist guy.

Since he couldn't help with the diagnosis himself, he really had nothing to do at the hospital besides mess with the patients at the psych ward. And Taub, of course, making him pay for cakes and other foods at the cafeteria that he put on his plate when he wasn't looking.

Utilizing his ghostly capabilities, he floated over to Rachel and peeked over her shoulder. Eggs and bacon. What a lucky bastard. In some corner of the kitchen, he could smell the thick aroma of some exotic, expensive smelling coffee brewing, coffee whitener and sugar sitting next to the pot half-filled with black liquid. Kutner left the blonde fussing over the stove to look through Taub's cupboards, trying to remember what he had made for him a few days ago.

_Hmm... There's tea in this box... and in this one... Oooh, hazelnut coffee, awesome... Ugh, decaf... Who the hell likes that stuff, anyway... Ooh, hot chocolate!_Smiling to himself, Kutner turned the container of chocolate powder around so he could see the brand label. _Hey, this is the same stuff I had at home... It's barely used, though. I think he used this when I came over back in November. So maybe I _did_just lose that other box... Hmm..._

A quiet, hollow sob broke through his thoughts, and Kutner turned around. Another thing about being a spirit was seeing the inner spirit of other people, something he was reminded of when he heard a sound escape closed lips. It was an odd picture, the colored profile of the woman turning off a stove filled with the gray, translucent image of her inner soul filling up her appearance. The moving body above was nothing but a shell, and sometimes, it didn't reflect the person on the inside.

Just another thing he would have found useful if he were alive. Even though he could see the real person on the inside didn't mean that he could act on it. No one could actually hear him, besides Taub of course, and that itself could be considered a boundary. It was hard not to let it slip that he could see Taub slowly breaking down, teetering on a small life line of his sanity.

His wife was a paranoid woman and, to him, it was stifling, as if he could never go out again without being accused of something. This was partly true; she was suspiscious of almost all that he did. But Kutner knew that she wouldn't have to be if Taub shared everything that happened to him, if he opened up and let himself be vulnerable. He knew that Taub wouldn't do that to himself, because no one could touch him, he was on top of everything. He was in control and he could not let himself be stripped of that.

That was the main reason he didn't want to tell Taub about his abilities. Not yet.

Taub was losing the control he sought after, not being able to control the gun in his hands among things, and his wife was losing the man she fell in love with. Kutner could count the weeks they had left on his fingers.

Kutner twisted his lips into a frown as he watched Rachel set the small, circular table covered in a dainty white cloth with the breakfast she fixed. The rattle of forks and knives rang in his ears, and another hiccup greeted him as she plastered a fake smile to her face, the only sign of determination that he could see in her demeanor.

He could see why Taub liked her. She was a strong one, not going down without a fight.

Kutner followed her into the living room where Taub slept quietly, air rushing in and out of his body in hushed breaths. He was lying on his side, cheek pressed into the armrest under his head, one arm dangling beside him. Kutner smiled to himself as Rachel crouched in front of him, reaching over to shake his slumbering form.

"Chris," she whispered, a bittersweet smile on her gray face. She still loved this man, but she wasn't sure if her love alone could hold them together. "Chris, wake up."

Taub's eyelids fluttered, and in a few seconds he was awake. A look of surprise passed his eyes when he saw his wife in front of him, giving him a shaky smile. He finally registered her face and he smiled back, a tiny twitch of his lips. Kutner could see him lifting an eyebrow inwardly, a little bit confused as to why she was still trying. But he was comforted by the odd familiarity of this small ritual and leaned over to place a small kiss on her lips. The blond smiled at him and stood, leaving him to get up and follow her into the kitchen.

"Good morning," Taub said as he walked into the kitchen, his voice still hoarse with sleep.

"Good morning," Rachel replied, still trying to keep up a light demeanor. Kutner could see that she was actually as hard faced as a military soldier, her goal the only thing in her mind. She was going to try and break him; if she couldn't, she thought that maybe she would finally realise that her relationship wasn't worth salvaging time and time again. He claimed that his happiness laid in her, yet he didn't spend time with her anymore. If she really made him happy, then what was he doing away from her?

Kutner agreed that people didn't run from happiness. Instead, they try to cling on it as long as they can because it's the only thing worth trying for. If it wasn't theirs, they would make it theirs. If they had it, then they would clutch onto it until it didn't fit the bill anymore.

Taub sat down and piled an egg and a few strips of bacon onto a plate. He was quiet, avoiding any unnecessary conversations. Rachel seethed at him inwardly because of this; she knew what he was doing. So she cleared her throat and said, "Chris... I wanted to talk to you about..." She paused, motioning with her hands clumsily towards herself and him as she tried to find a proper word, "...Us. And our... situation."

Swallowing, Taub raised his eyes for a brief moment to gauge her expression. She was carefully deadpan, though her lips were pressed into a firm line. He set down his fork and his gaze, examining the fine lines of the cloth below his plate.

"Rachel... I haven't been cheating. And listen," he stopped, knowing that she was going to object, "Listen to me. Trust me. I know that I've cheated in the past, but you need to trust me. I haven't been cheating."

The blond clenched her teeth, and Kutner swore that the loudest sound in the room was her teeth grinding. "I want to trust you, Chris, but I know better. You may have only admitted to cheating that one time, but there must be other times. Or, at least you want to cheat. I see the way you look at those pretty little women, and sometimes men that I find handsome."

Taub's mouth twitched at that point. He was silent, because he knew that she was right. Lying wasn't going to save him from his wife, the woman who has lived with him for years and could read him pretty well.

"And you think I don't know why you have been drinking so much? There is no way that you could be so upset over a simple coworker, Chris," Rachel continued, looking as if she were ready to jump out of her seat. She settled on clenching the edge of the wooden table instead, trying to control her suppressed anger. "You loved that man, didn't you--?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Taub exclaimed, thoroughly surprised. He held an expression of shock, though Kutner could see his inner self flush while mirroring the look on his face. "I didn't, I wasn't, I was never in love with Kutner--"

Kutner was just as surprised at Taub was, his eyebrows flying into his hairline. _What?! She thinks he was in love with me? How the hell could she..._ He stopped to consider the validity of her words. _She... She knows him pretty well. Why not believe her? And that look on his face..._

Rachel scoffed, leaning on the table to look more intimidating. "Don't think I couldn't recognize that look in your eyes whenever he called you up about some new case, or to hang out with you, or something. You hung on every word that he said, and you're still not over his death. Why, I think you loved him more than you loved me!"

"How can you think that I love him?!" Taub argued, his eyes blazing. "I have loved you and only you my whole life. Those other women, they were just... I didn't love them. I was just some horny bastard looking to get some. So how can you think that I love Kutner?"

Rachel folded her forearms, a small smirk lighting her face. She was amused by his burst. "I never accused you of loving those other women. I didn't compare this Kutner to those women, Chris. I know when someone is in love. I've been in love before. I know what it's like. I've seen you in love before. You used to love me, too." She choked on those last words, lowering her eyes as she shook her head. "And I just know... That look in your eyes... It's like... Like you've found the one thing in the world that you can trust with your heart entirely. In the span of two years, you've learned to love again. Just... not with me."

Taub was speechless for a moment, never once expecting his wife to know what he had felt. From the pained look on his gray self, she had opened a wound that had yet to heal. "I never loved him more than I loved you," he muttered lowly, sending a look in Kutner's direction.

_What the... how does he know that I'm here...? _was one of the thoughts that passed his mind as Taub's words registered in his mind. _Wait... What?! Did he just say that he's in love with me?!_

Taub was shocked that he admitted this out loud, but the expression painted on his face was one of indifference. He had fallen back into his habits of detaching himself. Rachel, on the other had, seemed somewhat satisfied, but Kutner knew that this feeling was empty compared to the hard truth that her husband was in love with someone else. _He even used past tense!_

"So you admit it," Rachel muttered, the sentence not really a question more than a statement. "You admit it to yourself, and you admit it to me. Do you really think that this relationship is worth dragging on?"

"It may not be worth continuing," Taub murmured in reply, finally looking into her eyes with his own bitter ones, "But it's all I have left. I can't imagine life without you, Rachel. I... My love may be questionable, but I still care for you."

_You and I both know that caring just isn't enough anymore._

"You and I both know that caring just isn't enough anymore," Rachel echoed, her voice thick with unshed tears. "Can't you at least care for me enough to allow me to find someone who loves me in return? I love you, Chris. I love you so much. And I know that some part of you wants to love me, too, but... You just... Don't. So just let me go... I will, if you let me..."

Kutner and Taub knew that she would stay with him if he begged hard enough. _I'm sure that's how they've stayed together for so long._ But here she was, begging herself, begging to be able to start her life again with someone who could return her feelings unconditionally.

Taub swallowed thickly, his shoulders heavy with the unloaded emotions and revelations unleashed in this one conversation alone. But he had been expecting this; at least, he knew it would come eventually. He had hoped it wouldn't have happened so soon.

Kutner admired this woman greatly. She had managed to get Taub to admit the truth, using the truth as her only weapon. She knew that she loved him more than anything, yet she knew that doing this would cease their relationship. She was so strong, and Kutner had never seen anything so amazing as the courage that this woman held. He could see that she was scared; she didn't want to lose Taub, she didn't want to change her lifestyle so dramatically, but she knew that she had to do this, and that's just what made her so courageous.

"I... Rachel, I..." Taub sighed, shaking his head as tears finally slipped from his wife's eyes. "Okay." He shook his head some more, trying to fight back his own tears as Rachel approached him to hug him.

"Chris," she whispered into his shoulder, feeling his arms tighten around her back. "Chris. I... I love you."

"I know." He exhaled shakily, staring at the space behind Rachel's head. "I guess this is... It. This is the end."

Rachel nodded against him, pulling back to give him a weak yet sardonic smile. "Yeah. Do you want me to help you pack?"

* * *

"Listen, House, I have to deal with something more important than _clinic duty_," Taub growled into his phone, the scratch of tape being unrolled sounding in the background. "I don't care if everyone has to do it, I just got kicked out of my home. No, I haven't filed the divorce papers, why-- Oh. I... Yeah. I'll be there in half an hour."

Rachel poked her head over a tower of cardboard boxes, a black Sharpie in her hand. She had just labelled the box in front of her "Dress Shirts". "You going to work?"

Taub folded his phone shut and nodded. "Yeah." Pocketing the device, he took a few steps towards his wife, so used to giving a goodbye kiss before leaving, but he stopped in his tracks when realization hit him and he stood still for a moment, lost. Rachel gave him a small, sad smile, knowing that they could never be the way that they were before after their talk that morning. She closed the distance between them to give a quick hug.

"I'll see you later. I guess I'll... do a few more boxes, but I'm not doing all of them," she said with a small chuckle. Taub smiled in return, and they exchanged a bittersweet look before Taub heaved himself to the door.

Locking the door behind him, Taub almost jumped out of his skin when Kutner said, "**You okay**?" Kutner hadn't talked all day, and he almost forgot that he was there.

The voice ringing in his ears registered in his head and he remembered the words he spoke earlier. I never loved him more than I loved you. "I... I guess... Not really. No, I'm not," he muttered, more to himself, tripping over his words.

"**I heard what you said earlier**," Kutner stated, his voice almost amused. Taub swallowed thickly, nodding. "**I never would have... I never... Wow**."

Taub sighed, emotionally exhausted from the talk he had earlier. He couldn't find it in himself to keep his walls up, ones that were especially weak to the ghost in his head, and he heard himself say, "Let's talk about it in the car. I don't want people to see me screaming at nothing."

He didn't wait for a reply as he headed to his garage, the trunk of his car gleaming under the noon sun. Keys jangled in his pocket, a strangely comforting sound that reminded that the world was still turning under his feet.

After he started the engine, Taub gripped the wheel tightly, staring at the dashboard as he tried to collect his wits. His breath was coming in short, shaky gasps, and he hadn't noticed how torn up he was until now. Setting up his walls around Rachel was easy; he had become so accustomed to it, he hadn't even noticed that the calm front he put up while he started packing his things. But now that the pressure of human scrutiny was lifted from his shoulders, he knew that it was his moment to realise the damage done.

"**You know we... don't have to talk about it**." As soon as the words reached him, Taub knew that Kutner was lying to make him feel better.

Taub offered Kutner a bitter smile. "You suck at lying, Kutner." _Why even bother_.

Kutner scoffed. "**Fine, I do, but at least you had the chance to avoid talking about it**."

Taub knew the ghost would have shrugged if he had the body to do it. He clenched his eyes shut and rested his forehead on the wheel. _You know it only would have lasted for a few days or so. Might as well get it out of the way while I can._"I... I don't know what to say. She said it for me, really. I appreciated the friendsh-- the companionship you offered me, and well... You..."

Lifting his head, he scrubbed hard at his eyes. "You... It just... happened. I was reluctant to spend time with you outside of work; you know that. But..." He threw up his hands and gave a helpless look to the passenger's seat. "Do I really have to explain how it happened? You were there."

"**I guess not**." When silence started to fill the interior of the car, Kutner lifted an eyebrow at Taub and said, "**What? Why are you looking at me like that? Wait**..."

Taub's eyes were threatening to bulge right out of their sockets, and then maybe they would fall into his slack jaw. He couldn't believe his eyes; there, sitting in the seat next to him, was Kutner. He wasn't entirely there, he could tell. The outline of the leather seats met his gaze, though they were blurry as if he were looking through colored glass and sunlight warmed them through the windows. It was like seeing a ghost. It was _exactly_ like seeing a ghost.

"Wh... What the, the _fuck _is... Kutner, you..." Taub spluttered, pointing and shaking his head at the apparition sitting in his car. "I... I can _see_ you."

Kutner furrowed his brow, lifting his hands to his eyes. "**Really? Huh, I don't look any different**..."

Taub blinked, hard, and rubbed his eyelids again. When he opened his eyes, Kutner was still there, giving him a concerned look. "**You okay? You look like you just saw... Oh, wait. Of course you're not okay**." The ghost slapped his forehead with his right hand, lifting his left as he apologized. "**God, today is just not your day, huh? I, uh, I'm sorry for, uh... You know...**"

Taub gingerly held his head in his hands, exhaling slowly. "God, this is just... This is just way too much right now, I... Fuck, I need to get to work..."

He needed a distraction, something to keep his mind occupied as he recovered. Kutner simply nodded as Taub backed out of the driveway and made his way to Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital.

* * *

Taub settled against the small desk in exam room number two, cradling his head in his right hand. In the corner of his eye, he could see Kutner leaning against the wall across from him, his arms folded across his chest. He looked relaxed, and Taub envied him.

"**So how many is that, three, no, four kids with a sore throat? Geez**," Kutner said conversationally. Taub was still not over the fact that he could see him amongst the white paint of the wall behind him.

Sighing, he nodded, laying his head on his forearms. He admired the folds of the lab coat under his chin. The feeling of Kutner's worried gaze weighed on his shoulders. "Do you still want me to explain?" he whispered, his breath fanning onto his arms.

In a few moments, Kutner was leaning against the counter Taub was resting on. Taub raised his eyes to meet his gaze and squinted, trying to make out the faint features on his face, making sure that they matched with the same image that he held of him, all bright-eyed and pouty-lipped, a perpetual smile plastered on his face.

The apparition shrugged, though his eyes betrayed him. He wanted to know, but he didn't want to trouble the tired doctor sitting in the wheeled chair beside him.

Averting his eyes, Taub murmured into his sleeve, "I admit that I... care for you greatly. There's never been anyone in my life that I've met that can compare to you. You tried so hard to claw your way into my life, and eventually, I let you in, and somehow, you managed to... break me, I guess."

Kutner smiled at him, nodding in agreement. "**Yeah. You have these walls that you keep up, and well... I like a challenge, you know**?"

Taub looked up at him, intrigued. He'd always wondered about Kutner's side of things. _I mean, for all this time, I've kept it to myself because... Well, how can someone like Kutner return my feelings?_

Recognizing the look on Taub's face, Kutner stated, "**I'll tell you what I think only if you tell me more when I finish, okay**?"

He nodded and got up to take a peek out into the waiting room. It was empty, seeing as it was somewhat late in the evening and the clinic had closed a few moments ago. Taub closed the door, pressing his back against it before nodding to the apparition standing next to a couple of cupboards.

Kutner tapped his cheek as he thought of a way to start. "I**... Well, since we were coworkers, I figured that we might as well be friends, you know? But at every try I made, you would fight back and refuse me, which really bothered me. It looked like you could use some friends; you always had this lonely look in your eyes**."

Taub scoffed at this remark, but he kept his eyes trained on the floor because he knew it was true.

"**And it's not like I was forcing myself to do anything. I wanted to. You seemed like a good person. Like, you were smart, wise I guess, and I respected you. So I guess that... yeah. I thought you were pretty cool, especially when how you stood up to House and held yourself together so well. Even now, accepting me as a... ghost thingy, and your wife, and, well, House...**" Kutner offered him a soft smile. He tipped his chin up, his lips melting into a smirk. "**Your turn**."

Folding his arms across his chest, Taub returned the smirk and said, "Kutner, there isn't much more to say than what has already been said." He really didn't want to talk more about it, because he was avoiding being too open. He glanced at Kutner's face and saw that his eyes were shining brightly.

A small laugh escaped the apparition's lips. He grinned at his shyness, planting a hand beside his head. Taub hadn't noticed that Kutner had gotten so close and figured that he must have approached him while he was talking. "**Fine. You can be that way. But you know**..." He leaned in, his lips hovering close to his ear, "**I... kinda like you too.**"

Taub swallowed thickly, his throat suddenly dry. He stood stock still, not trusting himself to do anything. Physical things with Kutner right now could be... weird considering he wasn't solid. He didn't want to reach out and see his arms go through his body.

But with the way that Kutner's faded eyes were shining brightly at him, clearer than any light in the room, he was finding it hard to restrain himself. It didn't look like Kutner wanted him to, either. Kutner's eyelashes fluttered prettily, and he bit back a smile at how girly he looked right now with those soft round lips and ashen lashes. Sharp cheek bones and an angular jaw took away from his feminine features and he realized that he was probably the first man Kutner had ever had feelings for.

Another small laugh greeted his ears as Kutner muttered, "**Come on already, I know you want to**."

Giving Kutner a pointed look, Taub rolled his eyes and brought his lips to the smiling ones above him.

* * *

!!!!

Oh man... What a move this was. But... I dunno. It just popped onto the page and I ran with it.  
Can you see where I'm going with the whole ghost thing? xD  
So yeah... Hope I don't get shot with what I'm doing with this... xP Whatever happens, I just wanted to thank all the readers for any reviews or alerts or favorites or whatever. It's _highly_ appreciated.  
Hoo boy. Here I go. Need to tweak the plot a bit now... 'Til next chapter! And then I will attempt to write House again... Sigh.  
Wilson and blowjob shots today!


	5. Steady Rise

**Guardian Angel  
**Chapter Five - Steady Rise

Kutner's lips were soft and surprisingly warm under his and he felt himself leaning into the apparition in front of him. Taub tilted his head and Kutner moved with him, pressing harder.

"**Holy shit**," Kutner breathed, his eyes still closed. He seemed out of breath, head slightly bowed. He shook his head, lifting a hand to press fingers into his eyelids.

Concerned, Taub's brow furrowed and he almost reached out to touch Kutner's cheek, but he stopped his hand before it could reach its destination. The ghost was still the same as before; one little kiss couldn't have changed that much, right...? Kutner was still as dead as a doornail, even though the lips hovering so close to his were radiating the slightest bit of warmth, even though there was a leg digging painfully into his thigh, even though he seemed to be expelling empty, hissing breaths into his ear.

God, was he going insane?

Before he could think anymore about it, Kutner had grabbed the sides of his face and pulled him into a hard, hungry kiss. It settled in his mind that the pressure on his skin was light, and he was only keeping his head up because he knew that Kutner wanted him to. It settled in his mind that the man pushing up against him felt as if he would collapse into his body at any given moment.

And yet, the breath wasn't coming through to him, not only because he was _kissing Kutner_, but because he was actually there smothering his mouth with full lips. They were there, but... not. They had a dangerous fragility despite the fact that Kutner seemed to be mouthing him with all that he was worth.

The apparition pulled back, allowing Taub to catch his breath, again. He stayed close to him though, moving from his lips to nuzzle his neck. Absently, Taub stared at the faded image of the man currently running his hands all over his body. Then it registered that, _hey wait a minute, what the _hell_ is he doing?_

"Kutner...?" Taub whispered, his mind clearing a shade. He blinked, hard, and struggled to focus as Kutner pressed his lips to his neck. "Kutner, what the... the hell are you doing?"

"**I dunno**," Kutner murmured against his skin, tipping his chin up to mouth at his jaw, "**But I just... Need this right now...**"

"I didn't know that ghosts had a libido," Taub muttered, swallowing thickly. "Just... hold on a second, just think for a moment..."

Kutner didn't seem to be listening, as he was just about to jerk him into another passionate kiss when Taub finally lifted his hands to shove at the ghost's chest. Much to his shock, he didn't break right then and there, but the contact seemed to wake him up.

"**Nngh**," Kutner groaned, blinking his eyes a few times as he shook his head. "**What the... What the hell just came over me?**"

Taub exhaled deeply, leaning his head back against the door behind him. "I have no idea. All I know is that you were... all over me."

Kutner scrubbed at his face with his left hand, shifting his weight onto his other arm as he braced himself against the door. When he looked up, Taub could see that his eyes still had a slight glaze to them, and he knew that he wasn't thinking straight.

"**Jesus... When you... When our lips... I just... Couldn't get enough of... Your... Warmth...**" he muttered, inclining his head closer to the crook of Taub's neck. "**Just... I dunno, but it just... drives me crazy right now...**"

Kutner reattached his lips to Taub's neck, and he almost forgot how to breathe. When those plump lips moved against his skin, inching closer to his ear, he took in a sharp gasp, trying to fathom just what the hell was going on.

_My... warmth? What the hell, am I some sort of heating blanket now? With the rate he's going at, he could suck all the life out of me..._Flushing, Taub shook his head, clamping his eyes shut. _Okay, okay, wrong word, but... That... makes sense. Maybe being... physically close gives him some surge of life or something... _

Kutner kissed him again, and he tilted his head to meet the other's movements.

_Does this have something to do with the whole... revival thing?...Of course it does, what am I thinking? Ugh, I'm not even thinking right now, I... have to... stop this..._

They parted lips again, and Taub bowed his head, pausing to take deep breaths. Kutner splayed his fingers across his shoulders, playing with the lapel of his labcoat.

"How..." Taub struggled to find the words to form the question floating in his head, "How... Bad is it?"

Kutner smiled wryly at him. "**Bad enough that I'd rather not have this conversation when I can have you melt under my fingers**...?"

Taub rolled his eyes and replaced his hands on the ghost's chest, taking a brief moment to admire how they looked on his blue shirt. His eyes lingered on the faint image of a body standing in front of him, and he was reminded that he never saw the body, never went to the funeral. A dryness gripped his throat and his chest tightened as his breathing fell into a normal rhythm and the high of arousal settled down, leaving him balling his hands into a fist on Kutner's chest.

"Kutner," Taub muttered, staring at his clenched hands, "Was this... Was this what you were wearing when you...?"

Kutner's hands fell from Taub's shoulders, and he seemed to have some sort of handle on the situation that was playing at the moment. He glanced down at the arms extended towards him, keeping his eyes downcast. "**I... I think so**." He shrugged, and Taub's hands slipped off his body. "**I was just at home. Nothing... special**..."

Taub fought hard against the urge to place his ear against his chest, because he knew that nothing would greet his ears, he knew that the man in front of him was nothing but an apparition. His hands hung limply by his sides. Reality was back, as was his exhaustion.

"Kutner," Taub repeated, the taste of his name on his tongue wistful, "Kutner..."

There were no words to describe the feeling of loss that overcame his body, so he settled on murmuring the man's name again and again. Kutner seemed to respond to the call by placing a hand on his cheek, sliding fingers down his face to tip his chin up.

"**I'm here, Chris**," the ghost whispered, as if he recognized this plea that had plagued Taub's mind ever since he discovered that he had died, "**I'm right here**."

He jerked his chin away, desperate to look anywhere but in Kutner's eyes, desperate to refuse the possibility of _maybe he really is back_ just because it was_ fucking easier_ to drop back into the numbness of his sadness those few days ago. Raising his hands, he pressed his fingers harshly onto his eyelids, fighting back unsettling emotions rushing through his veins.

"I know," he muttered into his wrists, seeing patterns dance across his vision, "I_ know_. But... Do you _want_ to be here?"

Kutner fell silent, tempting Taub to glance up at his faint eyes. He figured he couldn't handle that right now, so he kept his gaze trained on his shoes.

"**Chris... You... can't be doing this to me right now**." Which meant, of course, that he didn't want to tell him that he really didn't want to be there after all. "**This... It's unfair. Just let me... Just let this_ be_ for a moment, okay?**"

And Kutner's hands were on him again, but this time, they burned through to his skin, and he was hot, and he was uncomfortable, and he just needed to get the fuck away, so he ducked under his reach and made a quick escape into the hospital. His mind wasn't clear, he wasn't even there as his feet carried him past glass doors, past startled nurses hanging in hallways, past more glass doors and into the parking lot. April showers soaked his labcoat, and the shock of cool wetness woke him up. Taub glanced up at the sky stupidly, feeling very stupid, _Just, _god_, what the hell am I doing?_

Rain saturated his skin as he stared at the fleeting sheets of water passing by him, and he relished the moment to just stand and catch his wits. _Jesus, since when was I such a lost cause?_

* * *

Kutner pressed his forehead against the door as it stood ajar. It hadn't moved when he leaned against it, staying half open as a result of Taub's rush.

_Dammit, that wasn't fair_, he thought to himself, glaring at the nurse's station a few feet away. The clinic was empty, though he could still see some doctors milling around in the halls through glass doors, working despite the fall of night. _He can't just expect me to tell him what he wants to hear when he knows that I shot myself. Jesus, I shouldn't even be here. This was all just... a mistake. But I guess there's no turning back now, huh?_

_Can I even bring myself to leave him again, after shooting myself with no warning? I... Guess I can understand where he's coming from. He couldn't even tell how much I was hurting... And to just kill myself might have seemed extreme to him. But I just... Couldn't stand being alone... _

His fingers curled into a furious fist, clenching his eyes shut against the light of the white clinic shining through his faded body. _But... I guess that it's... different this time? Maybe I won't be so alone with... him. He... Hah, he fucking loves me, that..._

Kutner slid against the door, his back slowing down his skid down the wooden surface. It startled him when the door leaned with him, opening farther as his head hit the floor. A dull thud reverberated throughout his skull, but he felt no pain as he laid on the linoleum. Bright lights greeted his gaze as he stayed prostrate on the ground.

_What the hell was that_, he mused, intrigued by the physical impact he caused involuntarily. To move things, he usually had to will them to as well as move them manually. This... was totally by accident.

As he lay on the ground, he found that he was somewhat content to stay there, unmoving, motionless. _I wish that the world would just stop moving so I can have time to think about what I need to do. This... needs some consideration. Can't just go with my gut feeling this time. _Kutner expelled a small sigh as he added, _Don't really have a clear one, anyway. Just... can't let him walk away from this just yet. I don't know where I'd be without him._

Reluctantly, Kutner drew his body up into a sitting position, curling his torso over his knees. The hospital was getting emptier now; he could only see a portion of the nurses that were there earlier. With the tip of his foot, he closed the door to the examination room, hearing it close with a soft click. He felt heavier than usual and wondered if it was the immediate absence of his best friend causing the urge to sink into the ground.

_I wouldn't be here if it weren't for him. But... whether or not that's a good thing is still questionable_.

His teeth dug into his bottom lip, and he was well used to the lack of pain resulting from this, as he dropped his hands to the floor. Heaving himself upright, he stretched_. There's nothing I can really do about it now, anyway. I just hope that he knows that, as well. Bastard keeps scrambling_.

Kutner walked out of the clinic, easily fading through the locked doors to the clinic. A small rush of coolness streamed through his system, reflecting the low tempteratures leaking from the air outside. He knew that Taub was standing out in the parking lot, getting drenched by rain. Their minds held a strong connection that let them communicate, and so he had something similar to a "Taub-radar".

Rain danced across his vision, droplets of water racing past him, being pulled down by forces of gravity. It created a small curtain around the short doctor standing in the middle of the lot, a few cars littering the concrete grounds.

"**Taub,**" he called, approaching him with slow steps, "**You'll catch your death out here.**"

Taub's small scoff was muffled by the quiet drone of the rain. "And if I do, I'm sure you'll be able to tell me how great it is."

Kutner watched as a brief shiver coursed through Taub's body. His first instinct was to wrap his arms around him, to stop the cold that was gripping his body, but he stopped himself because he knew he lacked the warmth that he needed. But he touched his face lightly, his heart tugging at the small flinch he elicited from his body.

"Kutner..." Taub murmured, leaning his head into Kutner's hand. "Why do you do this?"

"**Because I care about you**," Kutner replied, his voice surprisingly firm, "**Because I hate seeing you shivering out here. Because I hate how you look so cold, so weak, when you should be that cocky bastard who stands up to House and lies in people's faces.**" He sighed shakily. "**Because I don't like seeing you like this... in pain.**"

A whisper of a sob escaped Taub's lips as he closed his eyes against the rain. "Then why did you shoot yourself?"

Which was just another way of saying, "_Then why did you leave me_?" The shimmering, gray image of Taub's real spirit was covering his face with his hands, trying to hide the look of deep distress on his face. It was reflected on his real expression, his eyes clenched shut and a furrow troubling his brow.

Kutner frowned inwardly as he realized that he would have to ride on his gut after all. "**I was an idiot. I didn't see what I had to live for**." _I had no idea that you loved me like you do. I guess we didn't really know each other as well as we thought we did, huh?_

Taub hiccuped softly, clamping his lips shut to hide the fact that he was trying not to break into cracked sobs. He swallowed thickly before replying, "You know that they say you never really know what you have until it's gone..."

Kutner nodded and he knew that he was referring to the both of them. For himself, it was his life, his family, his friends, love. For Taub, it was Kutner, which hit him harder than it should have.

Underneath his fingers, Taub let out a shuddering sigh and finally opened his eyes. They were red, but he offered a small twist of his lips and kissed him.

A startling warmth spread through his system, stemming from his lips to the tips of his toes. He was suddenly more aware of the rain hitting the floor, hitting his head, his shoulders, his arms, more aware of the man under his touch. The light pressure against Kutner's lips wasn't enough, so he moved his hand to the back of his neck and tilted his head.

Taub was still shivering under him and Kutner couldn't help but smile against his mouth. He kept his lips connected, not willing to let go of the pleasant buzz filling his mind that mingled with the refreshing warmth surging through his veins.

Hands pushed at his chest and a sharp intake of breath whizzed by his ear. It registered in his mind that Taub still needed to breathe, and he would have blushed if he could.

The absence of his lips, of that warmth, brought forth a deep craving from the pit of his stomach, so he allowed Taub to catch his breath and occupied himself with the crook of his neck, his jaw, the shell of his ear, any part of his body his lips could reach. Another shiver ran through Taub's body and Kutner knew that it wasn't just the cold anymore.

"K-Kutner," Taub muttered, breathless, "I... Need to... Get home... Packing... Dry clothes...?"

Kutner nodded against his shoulder, withdrawing his head reluctantly. He kept a hand on Taub's shoulder, withholding that flow of steady warmth streaming from Taub's body as he walked back to the car.

For the first time in months, Kutner felt alive.

* * *

Oy. Today's episode was just... Wow Cuddy. That's the way to taste vomit, huh? Ugh. I want Amber back. You can't detox in one night...

As for this chapter... Hmm. Thought process is being overridden by the new concept of omnomnoming Kutner, but things have to work around it to make a little more sense. Shorter than last time, I know, but I think it would be okay stopping here today.  
All reviews are appreciated and all that jazz. Any advice is appreciated, cause I dunno. Just feeling out of it. But I think that the above is up to par... Let's see.  
'Til next time.


	6. Walking Away

**Guardian Angel  
**Chapter Six - Walking Away

Taub stood in front of the Kutner residence, nervousness clawing at his throat. He wasn't nervous to meet the parents of the man currently draped over his shoulders; he was just at a loss of how to convince them to give him the keys to Kutner's apartment, along with all of his things. It was the first time in his life he felt that he wouldn't be able to think of a good cover for doing the outrageous things he did.

"I still can't believe you managed to convince me to do this," Taub groaned under his breath, eliciting a laugh from the ghost above his head. He gripped the white picket fence outlining the perimeter of their yard, staring helplessly at the light red brick of the house.

"**C'mon. You needed a place to stay and I don't need one anymore. It can't be that hard to connect the dots,**" Kutner replied. Taub rolled his eyes as he missed the point entirely. "**Oh come **_**on**_**, you can't bail on me now. You're already here.**"

Kutner's reasoning hadn't changed from what he used to bring him here, as grudgingly as that was. Taub remembered the moment clearly; he and Rachel had finished packing his things into boxes, neither of them exactly happy about splitting up after so many years. The only consolation she offered him was to keep his stuff at their old home as he searches for a new home, which sparked the idea of buying Kutner's apartment. It wasn't for sale when he asked the super of the old apartment building, said it was owned by the Kutners, which led him to the situation he was in now.

Kutner continued to whine into his ears, but it died out into a muffled drone in a matter of seconds. Taub exhaled loudly, slouching over to fold his arms across the fence and rest his head on them.

_Okay, so maybe the apartment won't be too hard to snag, but your stupid dolls have some sort of sentimental value to them. And collector's value._

The fence opened and Taub felt a gentle tug on his wrist. Kutner's fingers were wrapped around his arm, and even though he was still getting used to the fact that Kutner refused to remove even a finger from his body, the motion felt fluid. Taub glanced from their connected arms to Kutner's eyes, shining clearly under the cloudy sunlight, biting back a sigh at his pleading expression.

"**Look, can you just... Do this for me? Please?**" Taub hated that tone of voice, and something in the back of his mind wondered if Kutner could tell. "**You'll figure something out eventually. You always do, don't you?**"

There was a childish hope in his voice that compelled Taub forward a few steps. A reluctant frown was plastered on his face, but Kutner pulled harder and he let himself be herded to the door.

"If only they could see you," Taub muttered lowly, resignedly raising a fist to knock on the door. He rapped on the wood three times and waited, listening for any approaching steps from outside the door. Beside him, Kutner bounced on the balls of his feet excitedly, bouncing off his shoulder as he peered through the window beside the door.

Taub let out a breath he didn't know he was holding when the door opened, and he forced his best smile onto his face as Mrs. Kutner's face lit up with surprise.

"Doctor Taub," she said, her voice an octave too high to be normal, "What... can I do for you?"

Taub swelled inwardly at the label of doctor, trying to remember the last time someone besides a patient called him that. "Hello, Mrs Kutner, I was just here to see how you were doing. As your son's friend and a concerned neighbor, I decided to check in on you seeing as you are dealing with hard times."

The woman's expression changed to something that resembled masked flusteration, absently tucking her hair behind her ear. "Um, th-thank you, Doctor, I... C-Come in, please!"

She turned around to lead him into the house. Taub gave Kutner a quick glare before stepping into the house, closing the door behind him. Mrs. Kutner chattered idly about the decorations in her home, and Taub would nod and hum, dropping compliments every now and then. They arrived at a comfy den, and she prompted him to take a seat.

Seated, Mrs. Kutner was across from Taub, hiding her face with a hand placed neatly on her mouth. Her gaze was bordering on nonchalant, but her eyes told him that she didn't exactly welcome his presence in her house.

Taub asked her a few questions about her well being, and she became more obvious about her discomfort. "No need to go all doctor on me, Mr. Taub," she quipped, refusing to remove her hand. "I got that from my son all the time." Taking a small pause, she swallowed, revealing that she was still having trouble talking about Kutner, "Can you just... Tell me why you're here?"

Taub kept quiet, hesitant to reveal why he was there without buttering her up first. Kutner nudged his arm, his face showing worry for his mother. "**She... I... Just tell her.**"

Despite saying this, Kutner walked up to her, holding a hand in front of her face as if to touch her cheek. His hand was shaking, and Taub knew that Kutner was disturbed by the pain emitting from her in waves, growing every time he mentioned his name. Taub empathized with her, wishing along with Kutner that she could see him as well, and not just for an easy escape.

_Does he want me to be _completely_ honest? _Taub picked at his collar for a brief moment. "I just... I know this must be hard for you--"

"How can you know?" she murmured under her breath, her eyes directed at the floor. "You... You didn't even attend the funeral."

His fingers curled into a fist in his thigh, a feeling of angry regret flashing through his body at the reminder. "I know, Mrs. Kutner. Believe me, I do."

Intrigued by the firmness in his voice, the woman looked up at him to examine the honesty in his voice. Her eyebrows dipped in confusion, "H-How...? You..." Staring now, she leaned forward in her seat. Taub shifted in his, growing uncomfortable under her heavy gaze. After a few tense moments, her eyes lit up and a small gasp rang in his ears.

"**She was always good at reading people,**" Kutner commented, somewhat amused at Taub's distress. "**But to see through you? Maybe she got more introverted or something.**"

Taub watched as she mouthed a few words he had trouble admitting himself, clearing his throat as he attempted to continue with his lie. "As I was saying, I understand that you may be having trouble moving on, so I think that it would be appropriate to try and remove some of his belongings from your house. Sever a few ties, so to say."

Mrs. Kutner's eyes narrowed as she said, "You're not here to take his things away from me, are you?"

Taub's lips twitched, annoyed at the accusation. "I just think that it would be a healthy choice for you to make."

"**Mom...**" Kutner muttered, not bothering to withhold the deep pain in his voice. He let go of all inhibitions and finally touched her cheek, his free hand twitching as if he wanted to do more. Taub imagined that he wanted to throw his arms around her and comfort her, because he knows what it's like to hurt and it isn't exactly what you would call pleasant.

The apparition threw a glance back at Taub. He could tell that he was starting to regret coming over.

_You know, maybe I am right_, Taub thought to himself, _Maybe it would be best for her to let go_. If only Kutner could hear what he was thinking, then maybe talking to him in public wouldn't be so hard.

"**Mom... Maybe you should listen to what Taub is saying**," he continued, sending Taub another look. _Maybe he did hear me. Huh_. "**You're obviously hurting, just... Let me help you...**"

Those words seemed a littler heavier than they sounded, a hanging note in his voice that related to a certain incident when he was six. The desire to help a close person to make up for a great loss long ago.

Mrs. Kutner's eyes flickered in Kutner's direction and she moved her hand to her cheek. Her expression stayed the same, but now he could see that her lips had been pressed into a thin line the whole time. She wanted to say yes, but there was something holding her back. As her fingers tapped her cheek, she nodded in resignation, sighing deeply.

"Fine," she spat, her voice a tired, angry hiss, "If you say it'll help me get over..." The woman's eyes hardened as she glared at him again. "You remind me of him. For some reason, whenever I look at you, I remember him. He talked about you all the time, but you didn't even bother to pay your respects. I don't think I can forgive you for that."

Taub swallowed down a smart reply,_ I couldn't stand going out of my way just to see him like that_, and simply nodded. She stood up, leading him up stairs and down a hall to a small bedroom that he guessed was Kutner's when he used to live with his parents. A single bed sat in the corner of the room, two lone posters for Star Wars and Star Trek lighting up the room from either side, a drawer adjacent to the bed, and boxes stacked to the ceiling in the last corner. They were neatly packed against the wall, labelled with things like "Action Figures" and "Jeans".

"Here," she said, exhaustion clear in her voice, "Take it all if you want. Just get out of here as soon as possible." And she was gone in a swish of flowery skirt folds.

Kutner stared at her as she left, his eyes filled with sadness. "**This is my fault**."

_Killing yourself in the first place, or coming here? Or both?_Taub thought bitterly, watching as the ghost trudged over to him. He let him fall into his arms without a word. Lying wouldn't help him, he probably wouldn't believe me if I told him otherwise, so he settled on giving him the comfort of his embrace.

Fighting the urge to agree with him verbally, Taub rubbed his back and stayed silent.

"**But I guess I kinda brought this on myself**," Kutner continued, glancing at the walls of the lifeless room. "Shouldn't **have bothered. At least you have an apartment now. And my first Star Wars poster is still intact, which is a plus**."

Taub smiled despite himself, whispered an affirmation into the taller man's ear before he walked over to the dresser. A jangle of keys registered in his ears as Kutner held up a keychain with a mini lightsabre attached to it, batteries long dead.

"**Gotta keep going, huh? You did it; I don't know why you would even doubt yourself**." Kutner offered a smile, shadows of smugness lacing his words.

Taub nodded in agreement, content to accept his optimism and its familiarity.

* * *

Over the course of a few hours, Taub had all the boxes shoved into his car. Mr. Kutner had swung by, glad to see that he had graced the couple with his presence. If Taub were a better person, he would have felt guilty for lying Kutner's parents, but he accepted the help and stated that it was no problem, he was only trying to help. After all, it was the best he could do for his best friend's parents. Mr. Kutner smiled at that, which only made Taub feel worse.

"**It's... for the best**," Kutner had told him, the words coming out of his mouth at a slant, as if he didn't exactly like the way they tasted. He wasn't exactly sure if he wanted to let them go, if they wanted to let him go, but the world turns, and people must turn with it.

Even if the world still turns, it feels as if Taub's world has been going backwards. His best friend shot himself then came back to life to haunt him, undoing any actions done to get over him entirely; not just his death, but his whole existence.

Starting the engine, Taub's fingers lingered on his keys longer than they should have. He could feel the added keychain attached to his car keys.

"**Come on, if you're going to take them, why not make it final by adding them to your keys**?" Kutner had insisted, a goofy grin painted on his faded features. Taub fiddled with the chain for a moment before Kutner sighed exaggeratedly and grabbed his hands, forcing him to link the rings together. It felt like he was in school again, sharing keys with a new girlfriend.

Except this was Kutner. He wasn't some passing lover that had persisted longer than the others. Kutner was... his coworker, his best friend, and the man who could break down walls. He was a man that was more than what met the eye, someone who wasn't just some happy-go-lucky kid looking for a thrill. Kutner was someone who knew more than someone his age should know, knew what it was like to genuinely hurt.

From the corner of his eye, Taub could see Kutner tapping some happy beat on the car door, bobbing his head to an imaginary rhythm. He had fallen back into that peppy attitude of his, and Taub was tempted to question his well being.

"**Coming back home again**," Kutner said in a sing-song tone, a smile pulling the corners of his lips into a bright picture of contentedness.

Rolling his eyes, Taub added, "I had no idea you had so many video games. Where do you find the time to play all of those?"

"**Weekends, mostly. Try to squeeze them in whenever I have free time**."

"Along with those fantasy books and the Internet? Not to mention maintaining all those action figures..."

"**Well, everyone gets bouts of insomnia every now and then**..."

"That can't be good when you're suicidal."

"**Hey, those things actually kept the suicidal thoughts away**..."

Trivial distractions like collecting items and playing video games sounded like the kind of thing _Kutner_would be into, after all. Taub frowned at the thought of a sleepless Kutner sitting on a couch with his eyes glued to a television screen, shooting down monsters with a laser beam. If it weren't for the fact that he had just admitted to being suicidal out loud, Taub would have found the mental image kind of... comforting.

Kutner shrugged, dropping his chin into his palm. "**'Sides, I had a lot of money to spend. I didn't have this hugeass house like you and a wife who spent half of it. I sent some to my parents every now and then, but they don't really need it, and I always had this weird impulse to collect things**..."

Taub scoffed, remembering his subscription to National Geographic. _Useless spending must be his thing, huh? No wonder he can maintain a World of Warcraft account._ "I also saw that box full of Chuck Taylors, Kutner."

"**Hey, I think they look good**," Kutner replied, a smile in his voice.

"Never said they looked bad, did I?" _Just a little... young._

Kutner nodded, a helpless grin lighting his features. "**True, true**."

Taub pulled into Kutner's would-be parking space. Beside him, the ghost exclaimed, "**We're here! We're home**." Kutner was practically bursting with joy, eagerly scrambling out of the car. Without opening the door. Taub wasn't entirely surprised, as Kutner was a ghost, but seeing someone walk out of a solid object seamlessly was somewhat disturbing.

The large grin etched on Kutner's face was contagious, and Taub found himself smiling as he strode into the building, a few boxes in hand. The apparition was radiating happiness. Taub figured that the cause for this reaction was the fact that he wasn't coming home alone for once and that the person accompanying him was something more than just a lay. His lips stretched farther as he rode the elevator up to Kutner's old apartment.

Settling the boxes onto the floor with a dull thud, Taub pulled his keys from his pocket and held up the metal keyring, seeing two keys that were unfamiliar to him. "Kutner," he muttered, turning to the ghost, "Which of these is the one for this lock?"

Kutner's eyes flickered downwards, and he pointed at the worn, grey key with a deep groove in the middle. "**That one. The other one is for the mailbox downstairs**."

Taub nodded in silent thanks, pushing the key into the lock and turning. After hearing a click, he pushed the door open. Kutner held it back for him as he heaved some boxes into the room.

"**Hmm, it's emptier than I remember**," Kutner mused, approaching a wall. "**My old TV used to sit here. Nice flatscreen**."

"Must've been good for your little video games," Taub huffed from behind a box, setting it down in a corner. "Come on; we've still got a good amount of boxes left to go. I have your things _and_ mine, remember?"

* * *

It was nearing midnight, the moon shining brightly in the dark night sky. Taub had managed to set up a sofa in one of the rooms; right in front of where Kutner's old television was, where he had placed his own couch. He figured he could let Kutner decide where to put the basic pieces of furniture, since they were "sharing", but he was in charge of interior decorating.

Moonlight shone in through the windows, casting shadows in the room and on his body. Taub's tie was loosely slung around his shoulders, his shirt untucked and wrinkled. Kutner was sitting on his legs, swinging his own off the edge of the sofa.

"**Being here feels nice**," he mused, turning his head as he took in the walls of his old apartment, "**I missed being here**."

_Familiarity is nice, isn't it?_Taub thought to himself, his body wracked with exhaustion. Being on the couch was something he was accustomed to, so he knew that he would fall asleep soon. Kutner prevented this from happening as he crawled over him, resting his elbows on his chest.

"**Tired, old man**?" he asked softly, giving him a small, complacent smirk.

"Yeah, sure," Taub mumbled in reply, nodding weakly. His eyelids were dropping, Kutner's faded profile blurring into something fuzzy. A hand stroked his cheek as he let his eyes close, his breathing falling into a slow rhythm. He was hanging on the edge of consciousness when Kutner spoke again.

"**Hmm... This has been so crazy**," he murmured, continuing to caress his skin, "**It's like... I don't think this would have ever happened if I hadn't shot myself. I don't think you would have broken up with your wife and told me that you loved me if it weren't for these ridiculous circumstances. It's... a really nice outcome. Just... I wish I wasn't dead while it happened**."

Kutner turned his head, pressing his ear against Taub's chest, listening to his breathing, his heartbeat, the sounds of life. His fingertips traced random patterns on his shirt as he continued, "**I just... I dunno. This would be so great if I just... wasn't so stupid**..." Taub could see his eyelashes hit his cheek when he clenched his eyes shut, his eyebrows following the harsh movement. "**God, what was I thinking? I should have just... I was so blind... But would I have been able to wait long enough to see what I've been looking for? I guess the distractions did more than make me forget about the pain I was feeling; it also distracted me from the things that I wanted to see, feel, the things that were right under my nose**..."

It felt as though he were moving his arms through molasses as he lifted them, tired from the heavy lifting. Taub enveloped Kutner in a weak embrace, almost smiling at the way his eyes widened when he discovered that Taub wasn't asleep after all.

"You _are _an idiot," Taub muttered, opening his eyes a fraction, "But I don't really blame you. You'd gone through too much to be healthy for a normal person when you grew up, and I guess you kind of got messed up. But just... stop it. What's done is done."

Kutner's lips quirked at his groggy command. He sighed, understanding the truth in his words. "**I guess. Things just would have been**..."

"Yeah, and if I hadn't developed feelings for you, I would be sleeping in a nice, comfy bed in a "hugeass" house," Taub replied smartly, rolling his eyes. "Just shut up already. I need to go to sleep."

Kutner adopted a look of slight disappointment, _I can't spend every minute with you. Just every waking hour_, but nodded, replacing his head on Taub's chest as his eyes slid shut, the relief of sleep overtaking his body.

It was the first night Kutner was content to stay in one place as an apparition.

* * *

This fic... Is about three-quarters finished. I might or I might not write ten chapters, but something close to that. Otherwise... I have no notes. I dunno. If anything's bad/off/etc, feel free to shoot me.  
Thanks for reading and for any reviews left!


	7. Wrapped Tight

**Guardian Angel  
**Chapter Seven - Wrapped Tight

"**God, I cannot get over the sight of someone who doesn't have half of their skin attached to their body**," Kutner muttered in disgust, burying his face in his hands. It had been almost two weeks since they moved in together, and surprisingly, House hadn't said anything about it.

"I know," Taub whispered in reply, watching Foreman and Thirteen talk to each other animatedly at the coffee machine in the office. He usually didn't allow himself to speak to Kutner out loud at work, but the atmosphere in the conference room was light, and he knew that no one was paying any special attention to him.

The pair of lovers sat across from him, both of them nursing steaming cups of instant coffee. Thirteen smirked faintly at him, saying lowly, "Have you heard? Cuddy and House slept together last night."

_Maybe that's why he's been so occupied lately_, Taub thought to himself hopefully. He shook his head, both to the brunette sitting in front of him and to himself. _No, I don't think that even sex would keep him from knowing for this long. Something else has come up... But what is it?_

Taub considered asking about the details, but he didn't want to seem too concerned, so he raised an eyebrow at Thirteen expectantly. She glanced behind her to the glass walls, to see if anyone important was approaching. Deciding that the coast was clear, she exchanged a brief look with Foreman before saying, "I don't know the exact details, but I've heard that she went home with him last night and hasn't come back until later this morning. Everyone could tell that something happened. Right, Eric?"

Foreman nodded in agreement, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Cuddy was practically glowing. You could tell that something happened right away."

Taub lifted his other eyebrow as he stated, "Never really thought the two of you were into gossip."

"When it's about House, it's more than just gossip," Thirteen replied, a guilty smile plastered to her pale face. Taub dipped his head in silent agreement.

The glass doors opened when House limped into the conference room, looking as miserable as ever. Furrowing his brow, Taub stared at him for a moment and concluded that he didn't look any different than how he had the day before, except he lacked some color on his face. The detox had taken toll on his body, and the hand holding his cane was shaking ever so slightly.

Taub glanced back at the couple and raised his eyebrows again. Thirteen was wearing the same look he had been a moment ago, confused as to why he looked normal - well, as normal as House got - when Cuddy had lit up like a tree on Christmas day.

"I'm so glad you guys have noticed my new haircut! It's stunning isn't it," House exlcaimed, feigning glee. He rolled his eyes and turned towards the door. "Cuddy can't keep her mouth shut, can she?" he grumbled, taking a short step towards his white board.

Wilson came in just when House's gaze was threatening to burn holes into the glass, a look of bewilderment painted across his face. "You slept with her?"

"Yes, I did," House replied, his tone incredibly dry, "Are you happy now?"

Placing his hands on his hips, Wilson replied, "Yes...? Aren't you supposed to be the happy one?"

House shrugged. "Sure. I had sex with the woman who I've been ogling for years, right after being deprived of the one thing that I actually do love. I'm jumping for joy."

Wilson gave him another confused look and opened his mouth to say something, but Cuddy poked her head through the door and said curtly, "House and team. Clinic duty, now," before disappearing again.

The doctors in the room spared her a quick, disinterested glance as she left. When the clicking of her heels faded into nothing, Wilson gestured towards his office and the pair left without another word.

Thirteen sighed, disappointed that she had not witnessed the sexual tension she had hoped to see. She stood up and headed for the door, grabbing Foreman's arm on the way out.

Alone now, Taub placed his elbows on the table and dropped his chin into his hand. He glanced sideways at Kutner and murmured, "I don't see the hype about the whole House sleeping with Cuddy thing."

Kutner shrugged in agreement. "**Me neither. He's hiding from clinic duty, as usual, with Wilson, as usual. And Cuddy seems unconcerned, even though she totally is, as usual.**"

"Whatever the circumstances though, today is going to be really boring," Taub drawled, heaving himself into an upright position. He stretched before reaching for the door.

"**Don't worry. I'll be sure to keep you entertained for a while**."

* * *

Kutner slipped through the walls of Wilson's office easily. Taub had let him go out for a while, since he couldn't really talk to him while dealing with patients. The ghost took the time as an opportunity to scare some unsuspecting doctors, but first, he wanted to see how Wilson was dealing with House's "situation".

House was sitting on the couch, downing a few pills of Vicodin. He swallowed thickly before grinning wolfishly at his best friend. "Ah, how refreshing. She can't keep the pills away from me for long."

"Which means that I get to stay longer, right?"

Kutner blinked as a feminine voice registered in his mind. He squinted at House and saw the faint outline of a woman sitting beside him, her legs crossed as she wore a mock-disappointed expression.

_What the hell... Is that... Amber?! _The blonde turned her head towards him and her eyes lit up. She stood and approached him, pulling him into a hug.

"Oh my god! _There_ you are! I didn't see you on the bus," she stated, leaning back to look him up and down. Her eyes settled into a look of confusion. "Huh. You look like you still have some life in you. What are you doing here?"

Kutner was speechless, opening his mouth and closing it in turn. House looked toward him as well, his blue eyes bending with the furrowed brow hovering over them.

"Kutner?" he asked, shifting his weight forward. "Great, now I'm hallucinating _two_ dead people."

"**Hey, I'm not a hallucination**," Kutner clarified, finally speaking. His eyes flickered towards House in acknowledgement before addressing Amber, "**I'm just... Checking in on House.**"

Amber smirked at his hesitation, tilting her chin. "No you're not. You want to see what happened between him and Cuddy." Kutner gaped at her once again, raising his eyebrows. She merely shrugged at him and added, "Don't look at me, I wasn't there when they did it."

"Kutner, keep your nose out of this," House spat, a frown pulling at his lips, "No matter how hard it might be to get that giant thing out of anything."

"House, you're losing me here," Wilson piped in, a look of puzzlement gracing his features. "Kutner's here now? Are you... getting worse?"

"**Hey, I already said I wasn't a hallucination**," Kutner repeated, exasperated. He shot Amber an annoyed look, eliciting a soft giggle from her, and approached Wilson's desk. Both Amber and House watched him silently, their curiosity relieving them of words. Kutner stopped and rolled his eyes at them. Amber waved her hands at him, motioning for him to go ahead. He sighed, grabbed a pen and a paper, and wrote, "Dr. Wilson, he's not hallucinating me." As a second thought, he wrote, "Hi."

Nearly jumping out of his skin, Wilson almost asked House to verify the validity of the note, but bit his lip when he realized that might not be the best idea. Kutner groaned and continued to write, "Geez, you're not insane, Dr. Wilson. I don't think that insanity is contagious."

"Hey, insanity may not be contagious, but it sure is fun," Amber stated, turning her head to the diagnostician silently perched in the corner of the room. "Isn't that right, House?"

"It's all fun and games until I can't practice medicine anymore," House replied, his voice soft. "Detoxing might have been a good thing only because it got rid of you. But I can only go so long without vicodin..."

"Aww, I'm hurt," the blonde replied, wearing a fake frown. After a moment, it melted into a genuine frown. She stood up again and stepped towards Kutner, glancing back surreptitiously at House before leaning in to whisper in his ear, "I'm not here because of the vicodin. I'm here because of the oncologist currently questioning his sanity. I'll be gone when he realizes it." She pulled back and gave Kutner an intrigued look. "Why are you here?"

"**To be honest with you... I'm not exactly sure**," Kutner replied, looking uncertain. "**But I'm pretty sure it has something to do with Taub**."

Amber's face lit up at the mention at his name. A familiar smirk that she wore only for the short doctor graced her lips, one that she had used to keep him on her side. "Taub, huh? Tell him... I said hi."

Kutner nodded and grinned at her. "**Tell House to open his eyes. Sleeping with Cuddy must have hindered your whole "destiny journey thing", huh**?"

Much to his shock, the blonde shook her head. "Actually... It helped. I think he's starting to see things my way, now that he's realized that having sex with Cuddy didn't resolve anything."

"Hey, stop whispering over there," House interjected, craning his neck towards them. Amber gave Kutner an amused smile before returning to her host.

Wilson seemed to have recovered, leaning his head in his hand. "So you've had sex with Cuddy. But... There's something wrong here."

"Besides the fact that I'm still seeing Amber...?" House asked, giving his best friend a dry look. Wilson pouted at him.

"You didn't let me finish--"

"Well, you seemed pretty much finished right there, Wilson."

Wilson huffed at the diagnostician, waiting for him to shut up. House threw up his hands, giving him a disarming look.

"You're still seeing Amber _and_ you don't seem any different than you did yesterday," Wilson stated, holding his breath as he waited for House to interrupt again. The older doctor waggled his eyebrows at him, a sign for him to continue. "You... haven't changed. At all."

House closed his eyes for a brief moment and shrugged. "People don't change, Wilson."

"Wow, deflection, how surprising," Amber said, earning an annoyed look from House. "But I agree with him. Doesn't that seem odd to you?"

The diagnostician rolled his eyes. "Of course it does. You're my subconscious, so if you know, I know. Stop stating the obvious."

"But if I don't, then you don't even bother to deal with it," she whined, sliding down the armrest to sit directly beside him, their knees touching, "You know I'm right. We're always right, aren't we?"

House stared at her, his eyes hardening into something close to a glare. Although he didn't speak, Kutner could see that he was silently telling her that there was a reason that he didn't deal with certain things. He avoided change, especially when he'd already experienced what it was like to lose the man sitting behind the desk.

"Well, it... certainly is fascinating to watch you talk to yourself," Wilson stated, giving him a bored look, "But we know now that your vicodin is what's causing your hallucinations. You've already detoxed once, House, and then you ruined it by taking more vicodin..." He pressed his lips into a thin line, uncertain of what he was supposed to do. He knew that the vicodin was the cause for his hallucination, yet the vicodin is what keeps the pain away. Does that mean that he can't have one without the other...?

"I can't have one without the other," House stated, staring at the handle of his cane. He looked at Amber, his eyes displaying hopelessness. She returned his gaze for a moment before averting her eyes, not able to handle the emotion reflected in his face. The blonde stood again, crossing her arms in frustration.

Kutner tilted his head at her. "**You've been playing as his subconscious**?"

She nodded, biting her lip. "It's not exactly working out."

"**Does being a ghost take away from your intelligence**?" When he received a glare for that statement, Kutner winced at the intensity of her eyes as he scrambled to add, "**I mean, I can't believe you haven't played the whole "Wilson is so handsome" thing because you're _Amber_ and then play it off as his subconscious**."

"You really _don't_ know when to shut up," Amber stated, despite the smirk that was playing at her lips, "But I like it. Hmm, I guess it does, Kutner... Or maybe it's just the feeling of being back down here distracting me. I don't really know." She shrugged again and waved him away. "Come on, I know you have better things to do than listen to gossip. You can see my work later."

Kutner took a step back, nodding at her. He was just about to step through the door when Amber's voice stopped him in his tracks. "I'm... not going to see you on the bus, am I?"

He turned back to look at her, twisting his mouth into an uncertain frown. "**No... I don't think so**."

She gave him a bittersweet smile and waved, both of them knowing that it was the last time they would ever see each other for a very, very long time.

* * *

_Damn, I should try Wilson again when he's not distracted_, Kutner decided, disappointed at the oncologist's lack of a response to his little note. He was enjoying walking around the hospital, poking his head into random operation rooms and people's offices. This time around, he stepped into the cafeteria, sighting Thirteen and Foreman talking over lunch. Grinning, he grabbed a small pudding cup from the bar, ignored by the busy servers handing out sandwiches, and made his way over to their table.

The apparition slid in next to Foreman, observing his girlfriend across from her. Her eyes flickered towards him, a brief little thing, before going back to intently listening to the neurologist in front of her.

The grey in her was brighter than the others and Kutner knew that she wouldn't last for too long. He frowned, imagining the grief that Foreman would go through when it happened. But he also knew that Foreman had anticipated what was inevitable, offering his love to her anyway. _At least Amber will have someone to entertain her on that bus she kept talking about..._

Shaking his head, he placed the pudding under Foreman's fork that he was waving around as he talked. He dipped the end into it and flicked it at Thirteen's face as he talked, splattering chocolate onto her cheek. The brunette flinched, closing her eyes as the dessert slid slowly down her face.

"Eric... what the hell was that for?" she asked, grabbing a napkin roughly from the tray in front of her. Foreman merely blinked in reply, glancing down at his array of food.

"I didn't buy this..." He stated, holding up the plastic cup for her inspection. "You didn't put this here, did you?"

She shook her head at him slowly, her eyebrows drawing together.

Kutner was grinning brightly as he grabbed a napkin for himself. Looking around for a pen, he saw one poking out of Foreman's pocket and took it, scribbling "Guess Who?" on the rough paper product in his hands. He slid it in front of Thirteen, whose eyes grew into wide saucers.

"E-Eric... What the hell is this...?" the brunette asked, holding up the napkin with shaking fingers. She'd had a bad experience with "ghosts" before.

Foreman stared hard at the paper, at a loss for words.

Kutner took another napkin and wrote, "You guys are bad at guessing. It's me, Kutner." This time, he slid it in front of Foreman, who picked it up with pure curiosity shining in his bright eyes.

"Kutner...?" He muttered, examining the note carefully. Kutner waved the pen in front of him, amused at how the neurologist's gaze followed the movement. Foreman shook his head after staring at the pen for a moment, giving Thirteen a desperate look. "Is this a dream or something?"

Thirteen smiled at him, shaking her head in silent disagreement. She grabbed the floating pen, much to Kutner's dismay, and wrote, "And what brings you here?"

Kutner grabbed the pen back, writing, "Just wanted to say hi."

The brunette's smile grew as she slipped her own pen out of her pocket. "It's nice to hear from you again."

"Yeah. It's nice to talk to you again," Kutner wrote in reply, glancing up at her for a moment.

She bit her lip, considering something. Kutner could easily guess what she was going to write next. "What are you doing here?"

He paused for a moment, trying to think of a way to word his circumstances succinctly. "I'm with Taub."

A look of confusion passed her face. "With Taub? What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't really know how to put it. I'm haunting him, I guess." Kutner hoped she was satisfied with this answer because he really didn't want to explain this to her on napkins. _Maybe I'll tell her if I ever come back...  
_

As the two scribbled to each other, Foreman gaped at his lover, dropping his fork into the pudding cup. He blinked twice and said, "You... You're actually writing to him? And he's writing back?"

She nodded at him. Writing one final statement, she grabbed Kutner's paper out from under his pen, a short line scratching across the napkin as she slid it from his reach. "Here's where it starts," she said, pointing to the top right corner of her napkin, "And it goes from there to here, here, and so on."

Holding the two napkins, Thirteen watched Foreman's eyes flicker across the pieces of thin paper. An amused smile graced her pale features, and she glanced towards Kutner again.

_My work here is done_, Kutner thought to himself, smiling fondly at the two lovers. He grabbed one last napkin and wrote, "It was nice to talk to you guys again. I think I'll be seeing you guys sometime soon... and not because you'll be dying or anything. I'll talk to you later."

And with that, he left the pen and the napkin on the table.

* * *

Returning to the conference room, Kutner sighted House sitting at his desk. He crossed the room over to the diagnostician's office, where he was juggling his cane between his thighs. Amber was no where in sight.

"**Where's Amber**?" he asked, taking a seat on the glass desk. House ignored him, staring at the carpet under his feet. "**House**...?"

Damn, maybe he can't see me anymore. Kutner cursed to himself, turning around to search for a pen and paper. He found them easily amongst all the clutter on House's desk and scribbled a message on a paper.

"Stop wasting my paper, I can hear you," House interjected, leaning back in his chair. He glanced at the apparition sitting comfortably on his desk and asked, "Though I take it that no one else can."

"**Yeah, I guess you're just attracted by dead guys, huh**?" Kutner replied, grinning, "**You didn't answer my question though**."

House looked back down at his cane, seeming to examine the handle. But Kutner's ghostly eyes could see that he wasn't comfortable talking about Amber. The grey in him was biting his lip, as if wanting to talk about it, but he kept himself under control. Instead, House regarded him with a nonchalant gaze and said, "Since when was it your business to know about my personal life?"

"**It's always been my business. You were my boss, which gives me some sort of a right to know a bit about you, at least to trust you**," Kutner replied, keeping his eyes intently focused on the diagnostician. He didn't falter under his gaze.

"You don't need to know anything about me to trust me."

"**That's true**," Kutner replied, another small smile lighting his face. "**But you still want to know why I killed myself, don't you**?" That statement caught House's attention, his blue eyes turning towards the ghost as he continued, "**How about a trade, House? You tell me about Amber, and I'll tell you why I killed myself**."

House's lip's twitched. He was somewhat amused by Kutner's tactics. The grey in him was actually happy to see him, even if he was seeing ghosts. "Fine. You first."

Kutner leaned back on the heels of his palms, staring absently at the lights in the ceiling as he related his story, "**If you thought that it had something to do with my parents, you were right. I know I seemed like a really happy-go-lucky kind of guy, and that was what I was aiming for. I tried to be happy, to live life by the fullest, to escape the misery of the loneliness I felt at the loss of my parents and my identity. I never really fit in, you know? It really sucked**."

The look in House's eyes told him that he empathized with him. He was glad to have another mystery solved, even if he had someone else put the pieces together for him. It took all the fun out of it, but at least it wouldn't keep him up at nights. The diagnostician leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms as he kept his cane stationed between his thighs.

"Amber... I doubt she was anything other than a hallucination," House began, appeased by Kutner's explanation, "But after seeing you, I started to think otherwise. She didn't tell me why she wasn't there when I had sex with Cuddy, but when she came back, it was when I told Wilson about it. That was clue number one. Then you dropped by, which made her preppier than ever. Thanks to you, she became an even bigger pain in my ass."

Kutner grinned complacently at him, remembering his little talk with the blonde.

"She kept pressing the issue on me... How Cuddy was just another fuck, despite what everyone else in this hospital thought. Wilson seemed to think so as well, which made her even happier. Clue number two. Made me wonder why my subconscious would care about whether or not Wilson agreed with me because he always agrees with me because I'm always right." His lips twitched again; it something closer to a smile this time around.

"She was Wilson's dead girlfriend, which probably tied into the whole thing, but she was also supposed to be part of my brain, and it's not exactly pleasant when your so-called subconscious expresses attraction to your best friend," he continued, moving his eyes to the floor.

"**You mean it's not exactly pleasant to admit to being attracted to your best friend**," Kutner added, and from the glare he receives, his comment appears to be very helpful.

"Do you want me to stop talking? Because I can give you the short version," House spat, his annoyance growing as he took in the goofy grin plastered on Kutner's face. "And stop smiling you emo kid."

Rolling his eyes, Kutner replied, "**Sorry, bad habit**."

House scowled at him. "You know, just for that, I think I will give you the short version."

"**Good; you suck at telling stories**."

"I'll remember to read to some children at the library later. Practice makes perfect!" House hunched over again, placing his chin atop the handle of his cane. He stared at the space in front of him as he finished his explanation, "Long story short, Amber convinced me to kiss Wilson instead. Then she disappeared."

"**And that's a good thing, right**?" Kutner tilted his head at House, waiting for the diagnostician to look up at him. He continued to stare at the empty space in front of him, refusing to answer the question. Kutner figured that he didn't want to lose an excuse to finding Wilson attractive.

A moment of silence passed by before House finally lifted his gaze to look at him, icy blue eyes giving him a hard stare. "Why are you here, Kutner?"

Furrowing his brow, Kutner asked, "**Is this a rhetorical question**?"

"Amber told me that she was supposed to play matchmaker," House continued, ignoring Kutner's response, "Do you have some sort of purpose as well?"

Gnawing on the inside of his cheek, Kutner considered his answer. He didn't tell Thirteen or Foreman why he was here, and to be honest, he didn't know the exact reason. Looking at House's genuinely curious eyes, he knew that the diagnostician would understand his explanation. He decided to humor him. "**To tell the truth, I don't really know exactly why I'm down here again. But I can tell you that it has something to do with Taub. The first thing I saw was him, and I hadn't been able to get away from him**." Not that he really wanted to. "**And over time, I became more physically present, turning into what you see now. A shell of a living man**."

House pursed his lips at him. "Well, that's a bit cynical, don't you think?"

Kutner gave him a flat look at his sardonic response. He returned the look effortlessly.

"**I dunno**," Kutner muttered, shrugging his shoulders, "**I don't want to say that some sort of higher power sent me down here to learn a lesson, but it sure is looking that way**."

House twisted his mouth in the opposite direction he was holding them in, returning his gaze to the floor. Kutner watched as he fiddled with his cane and popped a few vicodin.

"What was it like being dead?" As the words left his mouth, House inclined his head towards him, looking at him with those same, questioning blue eyes. Kutner was reminded of the incident when House stuck a knife into an electrical outlet.

"**I... don't really remember**," Kutner replied quietly, "**I don't think there was much to remember, really. It was mostly... nothingness, I guess**." _I don't even want to remember what is was like being dead._

"You shouldn't have killed yourself." The statement was simple, yet it brought a smile to Kutner's lips.

"**I guess not**."

* * *

Just needed to get this out before the finale. Ooooh man. I wanted to have a whole Amber thing with Kutner, but then that would mean that House would have to be able to see Kutner, which kinda made the last scene easier and all that.... Yeah. Just had to get this in here.

Reviews are great, criticism is also good as well. Thanks for reading!


	8. Scar Tissue

**Guardian Angel  
**Chapter Eight - Scar Tissue

"So you're saying that House has been haunted by Amber?" Kutner was amused to see that the look on Taub's face was not shock, but mere curiosity. He figured that he was used to the idea of ghosts coming down to earth and bothering the living.

"**Yeah. He... I don't think he's been sleeping well**," Kutner replied, fiddling with his thumbs as he sat on his old sofa. Taub was currently moving around more furniture, placing a coffee table at his feet.

"No wonder he hasn't suspected anything." A grunt hissed through Taub's lips as he pushed a mattress past the couch, heading towards the bedroom. Over his shoulder, he continued, "But Amber wasn't... like you, was she?"

Kutner shook his head at nothing and said, "**No, she was more like... Like, you know, one of those spirit guide kind of things. Yet another ghost stereotype. Didn't change at all, though I think she was more content being free... free as a spirit, I guess**."

"That's... interesting," Taub yelled in response, his voice distant and strained. He sounded occupied, so Kutner stood and walked over to his old bedroom. He leaned against the door frame and raked his eyes across Taub's flushed, unkempt form, his shirt untucked with a tie slung over his shoulders. Taub exhaled lowly, placing his hands on his hips, admiring the work he finished. In front of him was a wooden bed frame, something way too fancy to belong in his apartment, under a feather mattress. It was also rather large for one person, but he decided not to comment on that. "**Nice bed**," Kutner mused instead, taking a few steps toward it. Taub moved in front of him, blocking his path.

"No way do you get to continue sitting around doing nothing," he protested, extending his arms away from his body to form some sort of barricade, "If you can make me coffee, then you can at least help me unpack some things." Taub pointed at a dresser adjacent to the bed and waved his other hand to the pile of boxes sitting in front of it.

Kutner pouted at him, hoping to avoid the work, but Taub shook his head at him. "You can't feel pain, so you shouldn't complain about this."

"**Doing work is painful enough**," Kutner whined. Taub clicked his tongue, waggling a finger at him. Sighing exaggeratedly, he set about to his work, refusing to let Taub forget about the huge injustice he had caused.

* * *

"**Come on, I dare you**," Kutner urged, sitting cross-legged on Taub's new bed. He was staring at him bright-eyed, leaning on the heels of his palms as he inclined his head forward for an added effect.

Taub scowled at him. There was no way in hell that he was going to wear his clothes, even if he was "triple-doggy-dared" to. "I would look ridiculous, not to mention unprofessional."

Kutner frowned at that, slumping his shoulders at the statement. "**Hey, I could pull it off. Just wear your labcoat over it, that'll keep you looking somewhat professional.**"

"You're a whole different story," Taub replied, joining the apparition on his bed. He stared at his feet as he added, "Besides, your shoes are a size too big."

Perking up into an upright position, Kutner grinned at him, happy that he was even considering the idea. "**Suck it up, then. I don't think you'll be running around much, anyway. Just... Do it. Please?**"

_God no, I hate that tone..._Taub thought to himself, obviously distressed. Kutner leaned over, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. He could feel him shiver above him, probably relishing in a rush of his supposed warmth. Kutner's lips were right beside his ear, brushing against the cartilage as he whispered huskily, "**Come on, Chris. Do it. Do it for me**."

Closing his eyes, Taub leaned slightly into his touch, mumbling, "Do you really want me to do it that badly?"

"**Yes... I think it'll be awesome**."

_Oh yeah, it sure is hard to argue with t__hose __words._Taub rolled his eyes, caving. _I guess it can't do that much harm... Right? House does it all the time._ "Fine, I'll do it."

"**Yay!" **Kutner exclaimed, practically squealing with delight. Taub's lips twitched into something close to an amused smile, feeling a little lighter knowing that he was the one who had caused the face-splitting grin on the apparition's face. He knew he would regret it once he got to work, but, as he looked into smiling brown eyes, he figured that it wouldn't be so bad.

* * *

Taub tugged nervously at the collar of the striped shirt hanging loosely on his shoulders, feeling out of place as he stood in his best friend's clothes. He examined his appearance in the mirror and decided that he looked like an old man trying to be young again.

"**Don't worry about it so much, Taub**," Kutner said, his voice an attempt at something soothing, "**I don't think you look bad. I know this isn't your kind of thing, but variety is the spice of life, you know**?"

Taub's lips quirked into a disapproving frown. The clothes were a tad loose on him, as Kutner was a bigger person than he was, but they were laden with Kutner's smell, which was a plus. He had folded the bottom of the jeans so that he wasn't dragging them on the floor and the sleeves on shirt he was wearing was also rolled up to his elbows. Tilting his head, he stared at the mirror a while longer, feeling small.

"**Look**," Kutner began, lacing his arms across Taub's shoulders, "**You're doing this, okay? You're going to be late for work if you keep fussing about it, anyway.**" Tracing a finger across his chest, he added, "**Besides, I think you look se-exy**."

A brief period of silence fell before they both burst into laughter.

"Oh god, you are not allowed to use that word when describing me anymore," Taub said, ignoring the small shadow of the ghost reflected in the mirror. He turned to grab Kutner's hands, the apparition still chuckling softly.

"**You may not think that you're not good looking**," Kutner replied, sobering a bit, "**But... Let's just say that jumping you doesn't sound like a bad idea...**"

Kutner leaned in to nip at his neck as Taub bit back a laugh. "K-Kutner, stop it. You already said that I was going to be late for work."

Grinning, Kutner released him, hanging onto his hand as the man picked up his labcoat and his bag. They walked out of the apartment together, Taub pausing to lock the door.

"You... need to work on your... bedroom talk, Kutner," Taub mused, smiling smugly as he walked to his car. His hands fit snugly into the pockets of Kutner's jeans, which were comfortable to walk in now that he thought about it. No wonder Kutner used to dress like this all the time. And House, too.

Kutner rolled his eyes. "**That may be true, but if I had my body back, it probably wouldn't take too much to get into bed with you**."

Sliding onto the leather seat of his car, Taub bit his lip. "...Probably."

* * *

"That's an interesting method of dealing with grief," House commented as Taub walked into the conference room. "And I thought that Foreman was the only one who broke into other people's things."

Foreman gave the diagnostician a heavy glare, eliciting a small smile from his lover sitting beside him. His lips twisted into a lopsided scowl, but the shorter doctor garnered more attention than the usual snark of the limping man leaning against the whiteboard. The neurologist tipped his head at Taub and said, "Ignoring that last part, I have to agree with House. Why are you... wearing Kutner's clothes?"

"**They say that as if they don't remember what I said to them a few days ago**," Kutner stated, his voice filled with a mxture of amusement and irritation.

"I... Lost a bet," Taub replied, a small smirk playing at his lips. He glanced briefly at Kutner, who smiled at him in response.

"With who?" Thirteen asked, genuinely interested. She gave Taub a once-over, nodding to herself. "It definitely is not like you to wear clothes like this, that's for sure."

Taking a seat, Taub dropped his chin into his palm, looking over to Kutner again.

"**Just tell them**," Kutner urged, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. "**They better have remembered what I said to them**."

Taub resisted the urge to lift an eyebrow at him, following the apparition's gaze. he was confronted with the icy blue eyes of his boss, which were clearer than he last remembered them to be.

"Kutner wanted me to wear his clothes," Taub stated, folding his forearms on the glass table. "I heard that he greeted you all yesterday."

Thirteen's mouth opened with a quiet pop, her eyebrows rising as realization dawned on her. "So that's what he meant when he... Hmm."

Foreman sent her a look, wondering what she was talking about. The brunette nudged him and made a rectangle in the air with her fingers before making a scribbling motion with one hand. He seemed to understand what she meant, his brow furrowing in contemplation.

"So it's true then," House mused, his voice low, "That whole incident with Kutner wasn't a hallucination."

"You actually saw him?" Thirteen asked, tilting her head at the older doctor. He nodded solemnly. "Huh. All I saw was the writing he put on those napkins."

"**Hey, could you pass me some paper or something? I want to tell her something**," Kutner asked, prodding his shoulder with his chin.

"I could just tell them myself if you want," Taub replied, ignoring the look he received from his co-workers. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Thirteen lean over and whisper into Foreman's ear, their eyes shamelessly trained on the doctor seemingly talking to himself.

He could tell that Kutner was staring right back at them, his voice occupied as he said, "**You know what... nevermind. I think I'll just let them work this out themselves**."

Taub smiled complacently, leaning back into his chair as he observed the curious faces of his coworkers, knowing that they wanted to know just exactly what the ghost was saying. They probably want to know how he's here as well. But even I don't know that much.

Turning to House, he saw the diagnostician open his mouth to speak, leaning forward on his cane, but something distracted him. Cuddy popped her head through the doorway, much like the day before, and commanded them to go to the clinic as there was no case so far. Her gaze lingered on House longer than it needed to be before she left in a fit of clicking heels.

Taub frowned, as excited about clinic duty as the rest of the team. Laughter rumbled through Kutner's chest pressed against the back of his skull, sending a small, pleasant buzz down his spine. He looked at the door long enough to see Wilson walk up to the door, throwing his head back to check for the administrator who had just left, almost nodding to himself as he opened the door. The oncologist lifted an eyebrow at House, beckoning him to join him at his office. House seemed pleased to have Wilson himself come to the office instead of him just barging in, limping out of the conference room after him.

Taub glanced at Thirteen, who seemed to be watching the small, silent exchange curiously. She pursed her lips and whispered to Foreman before departing for the clinic.

"God, this feels like yesterday," Taub muttered, feeling the slight pressure lift from his shoulders as Kutner took a seat beside him.

"**Except the tension between House and Cuddy seems to have shifted. He seems less concerned about her now**," Kutner replied, scooting his chair closer to Taub so he could lean his head on his shoulder. **"In fact, he seems... Relaxed. I wonder what happened**?"

They exchanged glances, mirroring smiles as Taub said, "Wanna go check them out?"

"**Took the words right out of my mouth**."

* * *

Together they walked to the connected balcony, leaning in to peek through the window. The blinds were half-drawn, but it seemed like they weren't too concerned about any onlookers by the way that it was incomplete. Taub could see House leaning heavily on his cane, standing in front of Wilson's desk. Their mouths were moving, but Taub couldn't hear even a whisper of what they were saying. Kutner seemed to sense this, offering a small smile before saying, "**I'll listen in for you, okay**?"

He stuck his head into the window, bracing himself by placing his hands on the glass. Taub flinched when he saw Kutner shove himself into the room, but was surprised when Kutner's voice came out muffled by the window. "**Wilson just said that House will never be happy if he won't at least give it a shot. What the hell is that supposed to mean?**"

"You tell me," Taub replied, straining to get a better look. Kutner's faded silhouette obscured some of his vision. He craned his neck further and managed to see that Wilson was now leaning over his desk, standing with his hands spread out over loose papers.

"**Wilson says that he's scared, too, because House is the one of the only good things going on in his life, that losing him would be unbearable, but he knows that this will be great if they just tried**." Kutner's head twitched, tilting slightly. Taub guessed that he was giving them a questioning look.

"**God, I never knew that they... hmm**..."

House was staring hard at the handle of his cane, now stationed between his feet. Wilson seemed to be looking at it too, the both of them looking tense. The diagnostician's chest deflated slowly, as if he was sighing. He lifted his head to gaze into Wilson's eyes, searching for something. An answer, maybe, like House is always hoping to find.

"**They're not saying anything now... Why aren't they talking**?" Kutner asked, leaning farther in.

House was in deep contemplation, blinking slowly as Wilson reached out to touch his cheek. The older doctor lifted a shaking hand and stroked Wilson's lightly in return.

"I... I think he's trying to weigh the worth of losing Wilson to having a relationship with him." _God, I know how hard that feels_.

"**Oh**," Kutner murmured, lingering in the window as Wilson leaned forward to press his lips against House's. The diagnostician met him halfway, and Taub looked away.

"**That was interesting**," Kutner stated on their way back to the conference room. Taub shoved his hands into the pockets of his labcoat and nodded. "**I** **never would have guessed that House was... You know. The way he always makes cracks about Cuddy's outfits and stuff like that**."

"Well, that's probably the main difference between the two," Taub replied, standing in front of the glass door leading to the hallway. He glanced back suspiciously. "He doesn't care what Cuddy thinks of him, because he knows that she will never let him go from the hospital because of his intelligence. With Wilson, he's a bit more careful because he knows that he's friends with him because he wants to be, not because he has to. Wilson is House's only true friend, and I'm sure that he doesn't want to lose that."

Taub turned his gaze to Kutner, expecting at least some sort of indication that he had been listening. The ghost's lips were pressed into a thin line, his eyes unfocused as if staring into space.

"Kutner?" Taub resisted the urge to wave his hand in front of the apparition's face.

The call of his name seemed to stir Kutner, his eyes returning to Taub's face. He blinked twice before offering a faint smile. "**Sorry about that. I was just... thinking**."

Taub gave him a worried glance masked with sarcasm. "Right."

* * *

"Just be sure to take this twice a day and get some bedrest, okay? Have a good day."

As the door closed shut, Kutner bit his lip, his back pressed against the bland wall of the examination room. He was sitting on a counter, watching Taub sigh as he lowered himself into a chair. Taub wheeled himself over to the counter, dropping his elbow onto the counter and placing his chin into his palm. Smiling inwardly, Kutner scooted closer to the tired doctor and grabbed his sides, eliciting a sharp flinch of surprise from him. He pulled Taub up onto the counter with some effort, settling him into his lap.

"Wh-What the hell do you think you're doing...?" Taub asked, flustered. He was pressed flush onto Kutner's hips, the ghost's legs crossed underneath him.

"**Nothing**," Kutner replied smartly, wrapping his arms around Taub's middle. He put his chin on Taub's shoulder, humming contentedly.

"No, really, what do you want?" Taub asked, his voice wavering despite the harsh words spoken, "I-I'm sure that there are other patients waiting..."

"**No there aren't, it's about two minutes to closing**."

"Then why are you keeping me here? We could be on our way home alrea-"

"**I've been thinking**," Kutner cut in, absently tracing patterns onto Taub's shirt with his finger, "**I... want to tell you something**."

Taub tensed in his grasp, a look of concern washing over his features. "What is it?"

"**I haven't told you this for a reason**," Kutner began, watching Taub carefully, "**But I... was able to see people's inner selves. Like, it was just a grey version of their bodies, but they acted different from what their colored counterparts did on the outside. I figured that this what they were really feeling, because... Well, it made sense, you know? Like, a few weeks ago, I could tell that everyone was still upset about... me**."

"So what's wrong now?" Taub had tilted his head to look at him straight on, his brow furrowed with worry and confusion.

"**I... Can't... see that anymore**," Kutner muttered, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "**It's really bothering me. It stopped after I talked to House yesterday**."_ I can also control myself when it comes to you, but you don't really need to know that._

Taub groped around for Kutner's restless hand and held it still, a pleasant warmth spreading across his skin like wildfire. "What did he say?"

Kutner hesitated and Taub seemed to recognize the fact that the things said were private. Kutner picked his words carefully, "**He... Told me about his hallucinations. I already told you about that. Then... he just said that I shouldn't have killed myself**."

Taub scoffed. "I could have told you that easily."

Kutner nodded. _But when House said it, this happened... Maybe... this is important...?_ "**I killed myself because I thought that no one cared..." **Kutner thought to himself out loud, earning a curious look from Taub, **"I just couldn't stand being alone anymore**..."

"Kutner, we've had this conversation before," Taub said tensely, trying to avoid the onslaught of emotions bound to arise with the current topic of conversation.

Kutner huffed quietly, pouting at Taub slightly. "**Yeah, I know, but I'm having an epiphany here, okay? I think that this has something to do with that. Like, maybe I'm here because I wasn't really alone... And that I wasn't supposed to go just yet**."

"God, you sound like a really bad movie," Taub groaned. Kutner gave him another heavy glare.

"**Shut up, you're glad that I'm here. Even if I'm a ghost**..." Kutner paused, twisting his lips in thought. "**I needed to come back as a ghost because I needed to learn a lesson. And I had to come back to someone who felt strongly for me**."

"Again, we've already had this conversation," Taub stated, his voice laced with exhaustion. He decided to humor Kutner anyway, repeating the question with a silent hope that it just might be answered this time around, "Why me, though? Why not your parents or something? Come on, it sounds like you're ready to tell me this time."

"**If I went to my parents, nothing would have been accomplished**," Kutner explained, "I** needed someone honest and brutal enough to make me realise my mistakes. And you... You... loved me. That in itself should have been enough**."

"I'm throwing up over here, seriously," Taub scoffed, but a smile was playing at his lips. He nipped at Kutner's throat and didn't notice that the skin touching his mouth was a little warm. "Why are you telling me this, anyway? Is it supposed to make me feel better?"

Kutner blinked, reaching up to touch the spot where Taub's mouth contacted his neck. He narrowed his eyes, vision blurring into something fuzzy. Fear started to creep its way into his system and he reached out to grab at Taub, but his arms felt like they were moving through thick mud.

"Kutner?" Taub's voice sounded distant, but the concern was crystal clear as Kutner continued to flail about. "Kutner, are you okay?"

"**Feeling...**faint..." he managed to gasp, falling back onto the wall. His eyelids grew heavy, sliding shut against his will. Slight pressure was applied to his neck, the touch featherlight to his shot senses, before being drawn back like a bad mistake. Taub's voice continued to float around his head like an annoying alarm clock, becoming even more distant as cool air hit his body.

The last thing he remembered was a startlingly loud beat thrumming in his ears.

* * *

A/N: !!!!  
First off: Whooo, an update. Great joy, I know. But a number of school assignments, Sims, and writer's block ate away at my brain for a few days.  
Secondly: Oh em gee, it's almost done!!!!11one!!eleven One more left to go. Just to let you guys know, I am already planning a prequel kinda thing, leading up to this story, I guess...? Something like that. Plot is underway, and I could even write the first chapter if I wanted to, but this first. I need to be practising the build up kinds of things. It makes me feel better about closing this one up 8D  
Lastly, I would like to apologise/etc for the Hilson insertion.... I originally had this scene planned differently, but filler was included for fun and I had to put something to trigger it without making the transition weird. My _living _OTP that I will never, ever be able to write sufficiently. Sigh.

So, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. All feedback and such is highly appreciated, as usual. I would also like to give a shoutout to Sailor Twilight Assassin for always giving me the loveliest reviews for every chapter. I'm glad that you enjoyed this fic as much as you do 8D


	9. Marked Memory

**Guardian Angel  
**

Chapter Nine - Marked Memory

The first thing Kutner saw when he opened his eyes was a blinding white light. He raised his hands to block his eyes as they adjusted, and when he lowered them, he was faced with a very sweet and haunting smile.

"Hello Kutner, what a pleasant surprise," Amber said jovially, smiling brightly at him. Kutner suppressed a shudder at the foreign sight. She patted the spot next to her and added, "Come on, don't be afraid. I'm not going to cut your throat."

It was then that Kutner realised that he was standing on a bus. The bright lights had distracted him, along with the fuzzy image of the blonde sitting a few rows ahead of him. Hesitantly, he stepped forward, taking in the vibrant colors and the soothing silence. He noticed that the bus wasn't moving and that there were no passengers on board with them.

Taking a seat next to Amber, Kutner said absently, "Shouldn't we be moving? It is a bus after all."

The blonde slid forward in her seat, hanging her arms on the seat in front of her. "A better question is why you're even here, Kutner," she stated, deflecting his off-handed question, "This bus is for dead people. Although you do belong here, you never got on until now. Why is that?"

"I don't know." Kutner idly chewed on his lip, rubbing his right temple as he did so. "Does this mean that I'm dead?"

"I guess so." She seemed so much calmer when she wasn't trying so hard to get your approval, shrugging blithely with that perpetual smile that he could have sworn that she stole from him. Her smile melted into a smirk as she said, "You just wanted to see me again, didn't you?"

Kutner mirrored her smile. "Yeah," he admitted, glancing back at her eyes to see them shining hollowly. "I guess that I just wanted to say good bye properly. I admit that I never really payed my respects an stuff when you died, but I never really thought about it much then. I don't exactly enjoy thinking about death and what was eventually gonna happen to me..."

"Especially when you don't have a car and use the bus all the time?" Amber quipped, still smirking. Kutner slowly shook his head in agreement. "Yeah, death is scary, and it happens to the best of people..." Here she paused and smiled faintly. "But how can you say that when you killed yourself? When you were the one to end it all, to blow that bullet through your skull?"

The steadiness of her voice made him shudder slightly, unable to find the strength to withhold the rude gesture. "That was then and this is now."

"So you say." The leather of the seat under them squeaked quietly as Amber shifted uncomfortably, rearranging her arms on the adjacent chair. "You have better things in life to see besides me."

"I never would have thought you could say such a thing," Kutner retorted, scoffing softly. From the corner of his eye he could see her uncross her legs and throw the other one over the opposite leg as if she were trying to find the perfect arrangement of her long limbs.

She smiled at him again, but her eyes betrayed her as she slid back into the seat, shoulders hitting the leather behind her. "You still have that boyfriend of yours to come back to. In fact... he's the only thing you're coming back for, isn't he?"

"I... wouldn't say that," Kutner replied weakly, twisting his lips in embarrassment. One glance at her complacent, knowing eyes made him cave, muttering, "Fine, yeah, you could say that he's the main reason. But wouldn't you come back for Wilson if you could?"

"Of course I would." Was that a hint of jealousy in her voice? "But he doesn't need me anymore. He's already moved on." She was only human, after all.

"I thought you wanted that to happen." Kutner gave her a long, expectant stare, almost challenging her to contradict herself.

The corner's of Amber's lips quirked downwards as she said, "I only want the best for James... But can you blame me for disliking the fact that he's in love with _House_? That the only reason I got to see him again was for that? You're really lucky, Kutner."

He flinched at the acidity in her voice, especially the way she spat those last few words. Kutner regarded her carefully, waiting for her to lash out again, but was surprised when she merely sighed and gave him a sad look. "Kutner, I love James with all of my soul, whatever that's worth now, but this isn't about me. You need to go back. You honestly don't belong here." She shifted in her seat again, a look of discomfort clear on her pale features. "Seriously, you're making me antsy."

Kutner offered her a sheepish smile, to which she responded with a feeble smile of her own. Lifting her eyebrows, she waved him away, practically shooing him off the bus. He was somewhat reluctant to leave the quiet, welcoming atmosphere of the curious vehicle, but the thought of the aforementioned doctor reminded him exactly why he didn't belong here.

At the doors, Kutner paused and turned around to look at Amber, sitting alone on the empty bus. She looked almost lonely, her eyes reflecting something unreadable. "I'm glad I got to say goodbye properly, Amber."

She smiled brightly at him, and for once, it didn't seem quite out of place. "Me, too. Say hello to James for me!" Kutner smiled back and nodded. "I'll see you here again, someday, Kutner... and maybe then, you'll finally belong."

Kutner pulled his mouth into a bittersweet smile at that sentence, nodding vigorously. "I think I've always belonged, Amber. I just couldn't see it. I'll see ya."

And with that, he stepped out of the bus.

* * *

Taub stood at the window, eying the spare clouds in the sky. He pulled anxiously at his sleeves, feeling even worse in them. Glancing back at the bed, he felt his heart tug with worry. Standing away from the bed was an attempt to conceal his concern, but it merely made him look even worse, reducing him to a worrying, mother-like figure with a new crick in his neck.

Averting his eyes again, he heard the sound of the glass doors open. Taub knew it was House from the sound of the rhythmic thump-step resulting from his limping. He refused to turn around, refused to let House get the better of him, focusing his attention on the darkening sky outside.

"This is incredible," House mused, thumping around Kutner's bed. Taub glanced back to check that he wasn't prodding at the sleeping form, chiding himself as soon as he saw the back of House's leather jacket. "Coming back out of thin air, just like that... How did this happen...?"

"House, there are just some things that don't have an answer," Taub stated, his voice coming out strained with exhaustion. He stifled the urge to clear his throat, lifting a hand to press against his cheek. The prick of stubble rubbed against his fingertips. "Like Amber."

He knew he struck a nerve when House's thump-step ceased, silence falling over the room like a thick blanket of snow in late December. The door slid open again, and this time Taub turned to identify the visitor. A disheveled Wilson stepped in, closing the distance between himself and House in a matter of moments. His rush to see the older doctor allowed amusement to pull at the corners of his lips.

"What happened to you?" Taub heard House say, his voice sounding somewhat occupied. He must have been raking his eyes over his body curiously, making sure that nothing had laid even a scratch on his property.

"Had to calm down a few nurses," the oncologist replied, out of breath. He idly ran a hand through unruly hair. "Some of them were even screaming."

"It's not everyday when someone pops back to life." Wilson scoffed quietly at this, agreeing incredulously. "The paperwork concerning this is going to be a pain... We'll have to call the Kutners as well..."

"Kutner's back and all you care about is the fucking paperwork?!" Taub exclaimed angrily, his voice a firce growl. House and Wilson snapped their heads around, startled by the unexpectedly loud outburst.

"Calm down, Taub," Wilson said soothingly, holding up his hands disarmingly, "I know that you're worried right now, but Kutner is looking like he might just make it back."

He didn't really need to tell him that, but Taub appreciated his care and nodded numbly, frustrated that all he could do was stand and wait. Taub balled his hands into fists at his sides, at a total loss for words. He was at a total loss for anything, really, knowing that his sanity was riding on the well being of the man lying on the hospital bed beside them.

Wilson took a few hesitant steps forward, not entirely sure if he had the right to cross the barrier, and placed a reassuring hand on Taub's shoulder. "I know there's not much you can do now, but it will be much more satisfying to see him alive again after this wait."

Taub grumbled something incoherent under his breath and nodded again, still overcome by restless emotion to say anything intelligible. Wilson squeezed his shoulder again and retreated out of the room, House in tow.

Sighing in resignation, Taub dragged a chair over to Kutner's bedside, grudgingly taking a seat. Bits of moonlight were starting to shine in through the window and onto the ground, signalling nightfall. Nurses and overnight patients milled around in the hallway outside, almost all passersby glancing curiously at the glass walls of the room. Taub suppressed a sharp glare at each and every one of them and decided to close the blinds to the room.

Returning to the bed, Taub slumped over in his seat, tired and worried. Carefully, he picked up Kutner's hand, slightly cold and limp. It was still registering in his head that Kutner was an actual, physical being now, twitching and breathing under his grasp.

"Goddamn it, Kutner... I never knew that..." Taub couldn't stand to talk, biting his lip to muffle the cracked sound of his voice. _God, I only hoped that something like this could happen... But if this is all a dream... I just... can't wait. Say something, Kutner. Open your eyes. Tell me everything is going to be alright, like you always do. Say something optimistic, like you always do. Just... do something... I can't stand.. this..._

He squeezed his hand tightly, leaning forward to place his head on Kutner's chest. He knew that he shouldn't have been so surprised to hear his heart beating, but it still scared him. It was scarier than any cardiac arrest he'd ever seen, scarier than any liver, respiratory, anything failure he'd ever witnessed. It was his best friend - _god, will I ever be able to call him...?_ - lying unconscious on a hospital bed after being pronounced dead just weeks earlier, crossing the line between life and death. Nothing short of a miracle, and that was just one way to put it.

Taub nearly jumped out of his skin when the hand he was holding squeezed back. He almost forgot to breathe, feeling Kutner's fingers interlace with his, until a raspy voice startled him back to earth.

"Jesus, Chris... You're going to... cut off the... circulation," Kutner murmured, his breath hitting the top of Taub's skull. Shocked beyond words, Taub whipped his head up and stared into Kutner's eyes. Kutner smiled at him, something small at first, stretching into something so wide Taub was afraid it would crack his face in half.

Taub sat up, relieving the younger man of his weight. Kutner lifted his hands somewhat reluctantly and sighted the IV sticking out of his forearm and he laughed out loud. It was the most beautiful thing Taub had heard in the longest time.

"Oh my god," he breathed, still staring at his hands. "Oh my god. I... I can't... Oh my god!"

"Knock, knock!" House yelled, opening the door. A whispering and murmuring crowd bustled behind him, Wilson at his side giving him a flat look for his rudeness. Standing in the doorway, the diagnostician stared at Kutner for a brief moment. After taking his fill, he stepped into the room, allowing more curious faces to shove themselves into eye-shot.

"You've created a roadblock out in the hall," House commented, placing his cane between his feet. He tipped his head back him in acknowledgement, curiosity of his own shining in his bright blue eyes. Before Taub could get a good read of his expression, House turned around again, glancing at the doorway as Foreman, Thirteen, Chase, Cameron, and Cuddy squeezed through the crowd and into the room. "But family only, right?"

A disbelieving laugh escaped Kutner's lips as he regarded the crowd, sweeping his eyes over the front of the bustling group standing in the door. Heads tilted and eyes narrowed, others turning to whisper at friends and family. A child's voice rang out, shouting, "I want to see the zombie!" distantly. Kutner laughed again, raising a hand to rub absently at his right temple. It had escaped his attention beforehand, because _Jesus Christ, who cares about any scars or stitches, you're fucking breathing again!_, but Taub saw that a small, circular scar was embedded onto Kutner's right temple. He dismissed it almost immediately after sighting it, for it was a minor detail that merely reminded him of a lesson learned.

Still looking around, Kutner looked like a child at the candy store for the first time, so shocked to see so many sweets all in one place. He beamed brightly at the doctors standing in his room, trying to hide their own feelings of shock and awe.

"It's... nice to see you all again," Kutner said simply, his voice somewhat hoarse. His wide grin had a touch of smugness as he added, "Miss me?"

They all laughed, going over to give him a big, group hug. Words of greeting and shock and happiness of his return buzzed through the air, the close quarters that would normally be incredibly uncomfortable were somewhat acceptable. Taub almost felt lost amongst the crowd, but when he lifted his eyes to look at the man sitting in the hospital bed, he saw that Kutner was staring straight at him. He perked up under the attention, almost squawking with surprise when Kutner grabbed his shoulders and pressed his lips to his. Kutner's kiss was even more amazing now that the mouth under his was real and living. His tongue ventured the inside of Kutner's mouth, leaving no crevice unexplored, as if discovering something new. In a way, it was.

Parting, Kutner nuzzled their cheeks together and whispered into his ear, eyes still closed, "Taub, I... I would never have been here without you."

Taub smiled and gave him a soft, sweet kiss to his cheek. He repeated the same words to Kutner, saying, "I would never have been here without you."

When Kutner lifted his head off his shoulders, Taub glanced at the doctors crowded around them once again and smiled inwardly, recognizing their questioning looks, enjoying knowing things that they did not. Cuddy, Cameron, and Chase looked especially confused, trying to subtly exchange glances in hope that one of them knew. Kutner looked at him and simply smirked, sharing the expression with the rest of the diagnostics department.

Clearing her throat and easing a smile onto her face, Cuddy threw up her hands and said, "Well, I'm glad to welcome you back to the hospital. It was quite, um, spectacular, really."

They nodded their heads in agreement, flashing even more smiles at the soon-to-be overwhelmed "zombie". Taub's hesitant grin grew even wider when he felt Kutner's hand toy with his on the white bed sheets.

Kutner gave them a smile nothing short of heart-warming, eyes rounded genuinely. "It definitely is good to be back, guys."

* * *

An epilogue, or no epilogue, that is the question. One of my most tweaked chapters ever, just to make it longer lol. It wasn't really supposed to be super long; in fact, it could have been included with the last segment of the last chapter, but broken up for fluidity. Mmmhmm.

Anyway, I super, duper hope this is a good ending; this has to be the only multi-chaptered fic I've ever finished _ever_, so bear with me. I'm glad to have this established, really; room for one-shots and sequels and shit like that, hahaha. Ahem. I would like to thank all my readers, and my reviewers, all the favorite-ers, all the alert-ers, etc, etc. I give lots of love to you, as you give lots of love to me.

Oy, it's done. In a span of nine chapters. Ooh. Maybe I should make an epilogue, to even it out, lol... xD


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